Witchy Woman
by Dark Kaneanite
Summary: Yet another story from Sin's list of starters. Mark/OC
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Another one from Sin's list of story starters. Jeeze, you'd think my musi would be out of juice, but Nnnnooooo, they fire a mile a minute, just not on what I want them too. lol Anyways, I hope you all enjoy._

_It was time and he knew it. He was too old for this shit and it was beginning to show. But what happens when Vince doesn't want to let him go? Vince sends him to a cabin in the woods with a woman that was thought of as a witch. If she was she was the prettiest witch he had ever seen. So when he decides that if Vince had to have what he wanted then he had to have what he wanted too. And what he wants is that girl in his bed for the rest of his life._

Mark grumbled to himself as he pulled up to the secluded cabin. It was miles away from anywhere, and he doubted that he got cell reception out here. He had wanted to leave the WWE for good, but Vince didn't want to part with one of his biggest money makers. Instead he'd talked Mark into visiting this woman that he knew. Said that she'd be able to restore his love of the business. Vince was full of it. Mark didn't fall out of love with the business, his body was just too fucking old to do the matches that the fans wanted to see. He wanted to go out while he could still get up from a hard fall and not worry about his hip or his spine cracking in two.

He sat in the truck for a few minutes longer to see if anyone would come out and investigate the origin of the loud rumbling that reverberated off the trees. No one did, so he turned off his truck. Carefully he got out and looked around. The cabin sat in the dead center of a ring of trees, a cauldron sat by the door and a cat lounged on the porch. He shivered as he felt eyes on him and he whirled around quickly, regretting it the minute he did. His back spasmed and he went down to one knee until the debilitating pain passed. After a few minutes he got back to his feet and wiped the tear from his eye that had leaked out while he was down.

Still no one came to door, and he knew that they had to of heard the slam of his truck door. With a mumbled curse he walked up to the porch, the feeling of being watching coming back in full force. He looked around once again, and this time he seen that the cat was staring up at him, it's eyes never wavering or blinking. He shrugged his shoulders and went to knock on the door, but before his hand could collide with heavy wood the door swung open. He swallowed hard and peered into the darkness on the other side.

"Hello?" He called, his voice shaking somewhat, no answer. "Hello?" He tried again.

"Mr. Calaway. I've been expecting you." Came a soft melodious voice from behind him.

Mark jumped and whirled around, his heart in his throat. There standing behind him was as woman that barely came to his chest. Her hair was a light reddish brown, and her eyes reminded him of emeralds. She was standing there in a loose flowing skirt with a gauzy top. To his mind she looked like a gypsy and he fought the urge to ask where her caravan was. The cat purred loudly and jumped down from the porch, twining about her legs as it kept eye contact with him.

"Y-you have?"

"Of course. Vince called and told me that you were coming." She said with a smile as she walked past him and into the house.

"Really? You mean you get cell phone reception out here?" Mark asked as he followed her in.

"Out here? No, my calls are fielded at the store in town and they give me messages when I come in."

One by one candles flared to life, bathing the room in a soft glow while at the same time casting shadows that danced in the corner of his eyes. She moved over to a small table that sat next to the fire place and removed a pine cone from her skirt, setting in the middle. The more he looked at that table the clearer it became that it was an alter. She then lit a gold candle and a silver candle that sat on either corner of the alter. There was a bowl of water off to one side and a shell full sand that housed a stick of incense at the other. Painted on the plain wood surface in sliver and gold mixed paint was a large pentacle.

He watched as she bowed her head and passed the pine cone through the water, the smoke of the incense, the sand, and the flame of the candle. Wordlessly she doused the candles on the alter and got back to her feet, the skirt flaring out around her as she turned to speak. He was enchanted with the way that the light played on the material that he didn't hear a word she said and blushed red when she called him on it.

"Mr. Calaway, are you listening?"

"Huh, uh no." He said.

"Well, this is a week long sojourn in the woods for you. What you make of your time here is up to you. Mr. Hickenbottom came away with a great respect for those around him and nature. Mr. Jacobs a deeper understanding of the veil between life and death, sanity and insanity. While I enjoyed a rather nice battle of wits with Mr. Fatu." She said as she walked in a circle around him.

"You mean Shawn, Eddie, and Glen were sent out here?"

"Among others. They too had questions that Vince couldn't answer. So he sent them to me. Mr. Hickenbottom's stay here was many years ago though. While Mr. Jacobs was not too long ago. Mr. Fatu just left."

"Well will you tell me your name? I can't just stay here for a week without knowing what to call you." He said, fidgeting nervously under her probing gaze.

"Call me whatever you feel comfortable with. For Mr. Jacobs it was Sabrina, for Mr. Hickenbottom is was Mary, and for Mr. Fatu it was Little One."

"Wait a minute. Doesn't knowing some one's name supposed to give you power over them?" Mark asked as he watched her continue to circle him.

"Very good Mr. Calaway. You are the first one to figure that out so soon."

"So you have power over me, but I'm to have none over you? That's not fair." Mark frowned as she stopped and looked at him.

"Life's not fair Mr. Calaway, but I'm sure you know that."

"Are you a witch?"

"Yes."

That was the last thing she said as the candles then winked out one by one until the room was completely dark. Something brushed against him in the dark and Mark jumped, cursing Vince for sending him to this woman.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Enjoy the new chapters guys, and yes the experiences of the others will be brought to light, slowly. Part of Glen's is first._

"What's the matter Mr. Calaway? Afraid of the dark?"

Her voice seemed to come from everywhere and he felt a cool breeze on the back of his neck. He whirled around in the dark, trying to gauge where she was but his eyes couldn't penetrate the inky blackness. Again something brushed against his leg and he jumped, only this time when he landed something cried out in pain. Something inhuman. Light suddenly filled the room as the curtians were thrown open wide and he blinked to clear his vision.

"That wasn't funny." He said with a scowl.

"I wasn't trying to be funny. What's the point of wasting my candles? If you had just waited patiently I would have opened the curtains. There was no need to step on AC." She bent down and picked up the cat that had been lounging on the porch.

"AC?" He questioned as the cat turned accusing eyes on him.

"It's short for Alice Cooper."

"You named your cat Alice Cooper?"

"No, that would be silly. He told me his name was Alice Cooper."

She said it with such a straight face that Mark didn't know if she was playing with him or not. He shook his head and headed towards the door, fully intending on leaving. He walked out to his truck, his keys dangling from his hand. He slid in behind the wheel, feeling the comfortable, peaceful aura that seemed to emanate from the cab. With a sigh he fitted the key into the ignition and tried to turn the engine over, but nothing happened. He tried again, but still the only thing happened was a clicking from under the hood. With a growl he hopped out and raised the hood, nothing seemed to be out of place or unhooked.

"It's not going to work Mr. Calaway."

"What did you do to it?" He demanded as he turned and scowled at her.

"Nothing."

"Then why won't it work?"

"It's simple. Those sent out here are here for a reason and they can't leave until their questions are answered and their problems resolved."

"And all that takes a week?" He asked skeptically.

"Time has a way of slowing out here. A week here might be a month back in the city."

"That makes no sense. Time is the same everywhere. It can't be slower here and faster somewhere else."

"Really? Then how can you explain it being today here and yesterday on the other side of the world?"

"Longitude and Latitude." He said irritably, what was this womans' problem? Did she not have a realistic grasp on reality. "I can't explain it, I didn't come up with the rules."

"So because you can't explain something it can't be true."

"I never said that." He argued back.

"But you did. Just not in those words."

"Now look here lady...." He started with a growl.

"When you are ready to talk Mr. Calaway, I'll be inside." It was said calmly, which only furthered his ire.

She then turned and headed back into the cabin, the cat remaining on the porch and glaring at him with seemingly glowing eyes. Mark shivered as he shut the door and slowly followed her in. As he neared the porch the cat hissed at him and took a swipe at his calf. Mark side stepped and glared at it, grumbling to himself and plotting Vince's death if he ever made it back. She was kneeling in front of the fireplace coaxing a fire into existence and Mark took a minute to admire her round backside with a grin. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"You know it's impolite to stare Mr. Calaway." She said without turning around.

"I-uh, well. I wasn't staring." He said as he turned red.

"Are you ready to talk?" She raise up and turned around, crossing her arms loosely over her chest as she looked at him.

"About what?" For some reason he felt like he should be on the defensive, and instinctively shuttered his eyes.

"Maybe about why you're here." She walked over and sat down gracefully on a chair that was close to the fire, the cat jumping up on her lap a minute later.

"I don't _know_ why I'm here. Maybe you should ask Vince that." He said a little bit harsher than he meant too.

"No wonder Mr. Jacobs was so conflicted when he arrived. You could drive a person insane."

"Whaddya mean? There's no way you can pin Glen's breakdown on me."

"I never said he had a breakdown. I only said he earned more knowledge of the thin veil between life and death, sanity and insanity. So how did you know?" She asked, running her hand softly over the cats back.

"You practically spelled it out with the sanity and insanity. Glen has never been the most stable, a breakdown has been along time coming for him."

"That's correct, he was very conflicted, almost suicidal. The thing is that _you _could have saved him or pushed in over the edge." Her hand stilled and she motioned for him to take a seat in an identical chair across from her that he swore a minute ago wasn't there.

"I don't understand."

"I didn't think you would. Mr. Jacobs has followed your lead for the better part of his WWE career. He's played well off of the gimmick that you yourself with the help of Mr. Moody put together. Never once did he balk or not follow what you dictated, even though there were avenues that he didn't fell comfortable with. He looked to you for guidance, yet when you seemed to live your gimmick outside of the ring he wondered if he should to the same. This unfortunately lead to some disturbing events that have left their marks on him."

"And this is my fault?"

"Not entirely. But you've played your part in it."

"He's going to be alright....isn't he?" Mark said hesitantly, he never fathomed that Glen was suicidal and the fact that he could have pushed his friend over the line scared him more than he cared to admit.

"Mr. Jacobs is strong, and as long as he continues to choose to live then he'll been fine."

"What about Shawn and Eddie? Were they suicidal too?"

"Them...no just worn out and wanting a break." She said with a faint laugh.

"Oh."

Mark fell quiet and thought over the last few years. Glen had seemed withdrawn and moody, but Mark had been too caught up in his own problems to stop and find out if he was ok. The more he thought the more he realized that Glen had sought him out on more than one occasion to talk but Mark had turned the conversation to himself and Glen ended up helping him. He was a horrible friend, maybe it would be best if he left for good.

"Now you leaving isn't going to help things." She said softly.

"Dammit woman, quit reading my mind." He snapped.

"It's not reading your mind, but your body language. You'd be surprised by what it gives away." She stood up and walked over to the fire, poking it with the fire poker and staring lovingly into the flames. "Right now you're thinking about throwing me to the floor and taking advantage of the solitude of my home."

"That's absurd." He blustered.

"Mark, do you know that when a man becomes aroused he crosses his legs in order to hide his erection from a female that he is genuinelyinterested in. That's quite the compliment coming from you Mr. Calaway."

"I didn't know that." He said as he looked down and realized that he had indeed crossed his legs. "What do you mean that's a compliment coming from me? I do have manners you know."

"You do, but you also tend to let your primal side take over."

She turned around and the flames from the fire looked like they were licking at the hem of her dress. The flickering of light seemed to mesmerize him and soon his eyelid grew heavy and his head drifted down to his chest. With a soft laugh she draped a blanket over Mark and doused the flames, disappearing into the darkness as the cat kept watch over her visitor.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Her name will be revealed soon, but for now here are some surprising facts about her and her families past. Enjoy!_

Mark slowly regained consciousness some time around noon of the next day. For a moment, panic flooded him as he couldn't place where he was. Then he sighed as he remembered that he was stranded with a woman who thought herself a witch and a cat that allegedly named himself Alice Cooper. He had hoped that it was all a dream, so much for that hope. From his left came a low growling and he turned his head slightly, the cat was sitting on an ottoman staring at him. Glaring was a more accurate term, but glaring was a way to convey anger, and anger was a human emotion. And since a cat wasn't a human, there was no way it could be angry, so there was no possible way it could be glaring at him. But the damned thing was.

"There you go again Mr. Calaway. Trying to fit everything into your right or wrong view of the world. Mr. Hardy was right. You need to see the world in shades of greys to fully understand and enjoy life."

Mark jumped slightly at the sound of her voice. He looked away from the cat, turning towards the right. That morning she was in what looked like a deer skin skirt and an olive green tank top. Her hair was braided and laid damply over her right shoulder.

"Jeff Hardy is a fool."

"Maybe, but a fool with a pin-fall over you." She said with a smirk as she headed over to the window.

"What did you do to me?" He asked with a scowl, hating that she was right about Jeff.

"I did nothing."

"You had to have. The last thing I remember was talking you as you stood in front of the fire. Then it all goes black. Did you knock me unconscious?" He asked as he eyed her warily.

"Mr. Calaway I assure I have done nothing to harm you." She said as she turned so her back was to the window and she faced him.

"Then why don't I remember anything?"

"Easy. When a person gets older they tend to forget things that aren't very important."

"Are you calling me old?"

"No. Just stating a fact. There are days I can't remember what I did five minutes earlier."

"Yer making that up."

"Alas, I wish I were. But the sad truth is that my mind slips more and more each hour of every day."

"Come on now, you can't be a day over 25."

"You're correct. I turned 24 last month." She pushed herself away from the window and headed back to the chair that she had been sitting in the night before, smiling as the cat settled down on her lap with a loud purr.

"If yer only 24 then there's no way you could've treated Shawn like you claimed." He pointed out.

"Mr. Calaway, my family has been working with the McMahons for years. When Mr. Hickenbottom came out here I was under the tutelage of my mother. He was my first test to see if I had the gift."

Mark sat back and looked at her suspiciously. If what she was saying were true then he would've heard about her, well her family anyways, from one of the others. She said nothing as he continued to stare and with a start he seen someone else's face staring back at him. He blinked and it was gone, leaving her looking at him concerned.

"Are you ok Mr. Calaway?"

"Yes. Um...You said that yer family has been working with the McMahons for years. I've never heard of yer family."

"Let's put it this way, when the McMahon clan came to America, my family came with them. First as servants, then as free lance help."

"I see. And what if you didn't have the gift?" Mark asked, switching topics quickly to see if he could trip her up.

"My mother didn't dwell on the maybes. Fortunately I carried the gift and now before you I sit. And soon my own daughter will sit here, as will her daughter, and so on. As long as there is a need for my familys' gift then we will be here."

"Yer daughter?" Mark looked around to see if he could discern the presence of a child.

"Mr. Calaway she's not here yet, and won't be for a few months." Her smile was slow, and she suddenly reminded him of the Madonna.

"Eddies'?"

"No."

"But you said that Eddie was the last one here, before him was.....Glen?" Mark's voice was quiet and his mouth dropped open in shock when she nodded.

"Again you are correct Mr. Calaway. Mr. Jacobs is indeed the father. Just like Mr. Toombs is my father."

Again her face seemed to flicker and for the briefest second he could see the face of The Rowdy One staring back at him. He shook his head and watched as the cat stretched lazily on her lap.

"Yer going to tell him are you not?" He asked as she got up and started pacing.

"Why? My father knew nothing of me, so her's will know nothing of her."

"That's wrong. Glen deserves to know that he has fathered a child."

"Is that so Mr. Calaway, when Mr. Jacobs believes me to be a figment of his fevered imagination. Were you to tell him he would laugh at you. Were you ask anyone about their time here with me that would laugh. They remember nothing but bits and pieces in their dreams to soothe them when they become too stressed." Her voice took on a passionate lilt as she moved.

Mark sat forward on his chair, watching her as she moved restless about the room. The hem of the skirt fluttering in the wind of her wake. The sun silhouetted her and it made her hair shine, giving her an almost angelic appearance. Again growling came from his left and the cat was glaring at him again, only this time it seemed to be scowling as well. He frowned at the cat and stood up, placing himself directly in her path. She stopped and looked up at him, her face set in that unmistakable Piper scowl of determination.

"I find it hard to believe that yer father knew nothing of you. Roddy seemed to know everything about everything." He said softly, as he ran a finger down her cheek. "I do believe that yer yanking my chain."

"Mr. Calaway, whether you believe me or not is up to you. But do not ever question my honesty." She said forcefully.

"Well when you don't reveal yer name, and you spin tales about yer parentage and of yer family. It makes it hard to believe anything you say."

"Who are you trying to convince that I'm lying. Me or yourself? With that being said I'll leave you ponder that question. Good day Mr. Calaway." She nodded her head and left the cabin, shutting the door behind her.

Mark looked at the door confused. What in the hell just happened. He had hoped that he could force her show her hand, but instead she left. With a snarl he headed to the door, ready to demand answers. But the knob wouldn't turn. He rattled it, trying to get it to open but nothing worked. Growling came from behind him and he turned to see that the cat was in the room with him. Fed up with the riddles that she was feeding him he growled back, and smiled in satisfaction as the beast backed down with a hiss and laid back ears.

He walked back over and sat down, staring out the window as he rested his head on his fist. His mind was working on a way to get the answers he desired in the quickest way possible. A smile stretched his lips as the most obvious came to mind. He settled back in the chair, crossing his legs at the ankle. He knew that it would be a while before she returned, but when she did, she wouldn't know what hit her.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I haven't done this in a while, so here we go *drum roll* I own nothing! -whew that takes alot outta a person- Anyways to all my readers this is the part some of you have been waiting for, plus some more info on her. Plus Mark gets nosey. Enjoy!_

She paced the small clearing a mile or so from her home. In the dead middle was an old stump that she used for an alter during her rituals that she performed outside. She had let Mark get under her skin, something she had never done. She sat down on the stump and dropped her head in her hands, asking the Goddesses for patience. She didn't hear the steps that headed towards her, nor did she jump when a hand rested lightly on her shoulder.

"Brielle." The voice was soft and meldoious and seemed to fill the clearing.

"Mother." She didn't turn around, but she did bring her head up. "He's the one isn't he? The one the runes said would come and put an end to our line's suffering."

"I can't answer that my daughter. The dead have their secrets too you know."

"I know, you have told me numerous times before." She said with a laugh.

"He's not what's bothering you is he?"

"No....not completely. Mother I have never regretted a lie before. Yet when I told him that I was expecting by his friend I...I felt as if I was letting him down. Yet I had to say it, he must not know that he will be the father."

"Daughter you did the right thing, I know it hurts. But you're not the first one to have to make that choice. I had to with your father and my mother before me. You know that it's for the best."

"I know that mother, but it's not making it any easier. Why us?" Brielle cried out suddenly, thumping her hands against her thighs. "Why was our family slated to live this life of solitude?"

"You know the family history as well I. This curse was placed upon us by Corianne McMahon."

"I know mother, I know. But why punish us when it was Lachlan McMahon that strayed."

"To a woman's crushed heart my dear it is always the other woman that was in the wrong."

"So us women have to deal with her heartache? It's not fair." She crossed her arms and pouted.

"There, there baby. One day it will come to an end, and then our family can finally go it's separate way. We just have to wait for the one to break the curse."

"I know mother. I miss you."

"I know baby, I know. But one day we'll be together and it'll be you counseling your daughter and hearing the same things you have said this day."

"That's not much to look forward to. Give me strength mother, help me through this and lengthen my patience."

"My daughter you will be fine. You have my paitence even if you have your fathers temper."

A wind kicked up and Brielle felt warmth flow over and around her. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up, letting her hair whip around her face. When it died down she stood back up and looked behind her where her mother would have been standing. On the spot just behind the stump was a lone rose, her mother's flower of choice. She picked the rose up and inhaled deeply as she sat back down on the stump, loosing herself to the memories of her past as small tears slipped down her cheeks.

* * *

Minutes turned to hours as Mark waited for her to return. He had tried every thing he could think of to alleviate his boredom. He even tried to make friends with the cat. An endeavor that left him with fresh claw marks across the back of his hand. He glared at the beast that had taken up residence in the chair across from him. It growled as it locked gazes with Mark and he to fight the urge to shudder. There was something unnerving about the cat, it seemed almost human. Something that troubled Mark more than it should.

He broke the impromptu staring contest and his eyes roamed restlessly around the room as he tried to find something to keep him busy. Next to the fireplace stood a book case and at first glance mark dismissed it, he wasn't that big of a reader and doubted that she had anything that would keep his interest for long. But as his eyes ran over it again and again a book on the second shelf seemed to call out to him. Slowly he got out of the chair and made his way over, ignoring the hissing that was coming from the cat.

His eyes never left the large leather bound book and as he got closer it seemed that it was beckoning to him, begging him to pick it up. He reached out and ran a finger down the spine of the book, startled when it felt warm to the touch. He pulled his hand back and shook his head. There was no way that a book that was sitting on shelve could feel warm, especially if it was leather bound. He grasped the book in his hand and pulled it free from the shelf, dislodging spider webs that were connected to it.

The top of the book was layered with dust and he blew on it, choking on the dust as it danced in the air. There was no labeling on the book and he turned it over a couple of times trying to find somthing that would indicate what it was about. The longer he held it the warmer the book became until it almost seemed to burn his hands. He flipped the cover open and stared at the symbols that arched gracefully across the heavy paper. His brows knitted together as he stared, at first it looked like chicken scratch but the more he stared the more it looked like actual words.

He turned the next page and looked at the diagram that stretched from the top of the page to the bottom and on for the next couple of pages. At the top of the diagram were the names Lachlan McMahon and Neala Laoghaire. Attached by a line to Lachlan was the name Corianne McMahon. His eyes flicked over the diagram and he realized that he was looking a family tree, no two family trees. He scanned the next couple of pages and he was surprised to see that she had been telling the truth. As the McMahon family grew so to did hers.

But one thing stood out in his mind, her family only begot females and every once and a while they relinked with a son from the McMahons. To keep it from totally being incest the hookups were few and far between, the last one being a little over sixty years ago. As he got closer to the present day he seen more and more names he recognized, most of them were wrestlers. It was amazing to see how much talent was flowing through these women's veins and Mark wondered if Vince even knew the link between the families.

He licked his finger to turn the page but before he could the cat launched itself at him, knocking the book from his hands. The heavy tome hit the ground with a loud 'thud' and immediately the cat took a place on the cover, growling and spitting when Mark reached for the book. The last name had on the page he had been looking at had to have been her grandmother and he had been itching to see her name. He glared at the cat and once again tried to reach for the book, but again the cat took a swipe at him and once again opened his flesh on the back of his hand.

Mark hissed and pulled his hand back, looking at the six long, ragged marks that stretched across his hand. The cat growled again and readied itself for another attack. Mark retreated to his chair and sucked on the newest wounds, his eyes narrowing as the cat stretched leisurely before curling up on the book. It seemed to lay so that it could keep an eye on Mark and once again he shivered at the pure, naked malice that seemed to emanate from it's eyes.

"I hate cats." He mumbled as he once again settled down to stare out the window, hoping now more than ever that she would be back soon. He didn't trust that cat any further than he could throw it and he smiled as he imagined the cat flying through the air.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Gods I feel like this story as fallen by the way-side. But my musi have been in over active mode so it shouldn't take as long to update anymore. Thank you to all my readers and I hope that you enjoy this next installment._

The stare down between Mark and the cat lasted for another hour before she returned. At the sound of the door opening both looked up and Mark swore that he seen relief flood the damned things face. Angrily he got to his feet, intent of shaking some sense into her. What person in their right minds left a guest with a deranged animal. But before he could get two feet from the chair he had been sitting in, the cat launched itself at him and dug it's claws into his back. With a howl Mark tried to get the cat off, but it was just an inch or two out of his reach.

"Dammit woman. Get this hellspawned thing offa me." He bellowed as he turned to face her.

"Calm down Mr. Calaway." She said lowly as she started towards him.

"Calm down!?!?!? How in the hell am I supposed to do that with this.....thing you call a cat trying to kill me?"

"AC isn't trying to kill you Mr. Calaway."

Her voice was patronizing and Mark fought the urge to snarl at her. Was she blind? Did she not see it jump on his back? The searing pain eased somewhat and he heard the door open and close again. When he turned around he seen her leaning against the door and staring at him intently. Unconsciously he squared his shoulders as he stared back. To his embarrassment his stomach let out a loud growl, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since early yesterday morning. He blushed slightly as she started towards a door on the other side of the room with a grin.

He didn't say anything, but followed her quietly. Mark didn't know what to expect from this place but he had at least thought that she had a modern kitchen. Instead it looked like it was straight from medieval times. There was a hearth that housed a large cauldron and a spit. There was no sink that he could discern, just an area for dirty dishes, and the dishes themselves seem to be made of clay. All around there were bare counter tops and not one electrical outlet that he could see. In the middle of the room sat a large island and above it hung various pots and pans.

Mark's eye's moved to the hearth and he shook his head. How in the hell did she live like that. It was simply barbaric, and how did she get her food. There wasn't a refrigerator that he could see and he suddenly had the feeling that if she didn't eat as often as a normal person. She was standing near the hearth tending the fire with a poke and watched as she seemed to do it effortlessly, not once spilling a hot ash to the floor.

"Is this a joke?" He asked when he finally found his voice.

"What are you talking about Mr. Calaway? Is what a joke?"

"All this? There is no way you live like this. I bet you have a large house just on the other side of the trees. This is just where you convince those that Vince sends out that it could be worse." Mark said.

"What's wrong with living this way? I assure you that our ancestors lived this way. Why was it ok for them to do it but it's not ok for me?"

"Do you know nothing of history? People died due to lack of proper food care and poor handling."

"Sir, I assure you that I know more about history than you can ever hope of knowing." She bit out as she turned back to the hearth.

"Come on now. Quit with the game. Why don't we just go back to yer place and spend a nice evening alone talking about why you think I'm here." He said conjolingly.

"Mr. Calaway this is my home and we will get to that later. But for now your stomach has placed a complaint on the lack of food. Would you like a bowl of stew? It's been simmering since last night."

Mark's stomach growled again and he nodded, deciding to play her game just a little bit longer. He headed over to the island and sat down on one of the chairs, wondering if the frail looking thing was going support his weight. It creaked but stayed up and he let out a breath, it really wouldn't do anything for his reputation to be seen falling on his ass. A minute later she sat down a bowl of piping hot stew and the hearty smell of venison wafted up to his nostrils. He licked his lips in anticipation and blew a couple of times to cool it a bit.

The first taste brought a moan from him as the flavor washed over his tongue. Within minutes the bowl was empty. He heard her snicker softly and pinkened, embarrassed that he had practically inhaled the meal.

"Would you like another bowl?" She asked.

"Please." He said eagerly.

With a small laugh she refilled the bowl and set it back in front of him then leaned back against the counter and watched as he barely refrained from wolfing down the second bowl. He set the spoon inside the empty bowl and leaned back with a satisfied groan, feeling fuller than he had in a long time. He raised his eyes and found her still watching intently as if he was going to jump up and attack at any moment.

"Feel better?" She asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Good. Now you mentioned talking about why you're here." She moved over and took a seat on one of the other seats.

"I don't know why. Vince said that this would do me good. All I wanted to do was to finally hang my boots up."

"Why?"

"Have you taken a good look at me. I'm old. My bones creak whenever I move, I breathe way to heavily after a few minutes of movement. Plus there are too many hungry young pups in the locker room looking for a get rich quick job. I don't want to watch what I have worked so hard at to perfect be handed to those little bottom feeders on a silver platter. Most of them know nothing about the business." Mark's breathing became quicker as he grew more agitated.

"So instead of taking them to task and showing them what needs to be done to get to the top you're just going to walk out. Thus contributing to their delusions of grandeur? Most of these kids cut their teeth watching you wrestle. You're probably the reason they joined in the first place." She said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Oh, so now you're blaming the downwards spiral of the WWE on me?"

"If you hadn't of done your job so well they wouldn't want to be there." Her voice was nonchalant and it further infuriated Mark.

"Oh no. This isn't all my fault. What about Flair? Micheals? Glen? Eddie...both of them. They contributed as much as I have."

"True, but you are The Deadman. The Phenom. The Undertaker. Other than John Cena, your name is synonymous with wrestling."

"Don't lump me in with him. He's as much to blame as the rest of us."

"Come on Mr. Calaway. Mr. Cena isn't responsible for the down fall of the WWE. He's just a superstar like the rest of them, does what he's told. I see nothing wrong with that."

"Seriously? You see nothing wrong with John Cena?" Mark asked incredibly.

"No. Boy may have more junk in his trunk that J-Lo but it's nothing serious." She shrugged her shoulders again and tucked some hair behind her ear that had escaped from her braid.

"Ah-Ha!" Mark cried as he pointed at her.

"What?" Her eyes widened as he jumped from his seat and moved closer to her.

"You've talked yerself into a corner."

"How so?"

"How are you able to watch us if you don't have electric?"

"Who says I don't have electric?" She countered.

"I've not seen one outlet or anything in either room I've been in. So you have to live somewhere else. I knew that there was no way a person could live in a place this primitive." He crowed.

"Mr. Calaway, I can assure you that I do live in this 'primitive place' as you call it. And you are correct you don't see any outlets because I don't have any. I choose to live my life the way my ancestors did, right down to hunting for my food."

"Then how can you watch us?"

"Just because I live here doesn't mean that I don't go to town every once and awhile to mingle with other human beings. I mainly only go to watch the pay-per-views at the bar down town."

"Yer lying." He moved closer, his chest right in front of her face and his hair brushing the sides of her face as he tilted his head down to stare at her.

"Prove it." She whispered, staring back at him.

The close proximity proved too much for Mark. He had been fantasising about kissing her since he laid eyes on her and with one quick move he slanted his mouth down over hers. She didn't move a muscle, but Mark swore he felt her heart speed up. He moved his hand up to cup the back of her head, tangling his hand in the silken strands. He tilted her head back and softly worked his tongue into her mouth, tasting and teasing her in turn. Tentatively she teased his tongue, her hesitance pushing him further over the edge. It was almost virginal the way she was acting, and if he didn't know better he would swear that she had never been with another man.

The minute that thought slammed into his head he tore his lips away from hers. She had been with someone else, his best friend. And she was expecting his child. He swore and stomped out of the room, slamming a door behind him. Brielle sat there in shock, her mind running around in circles. She had just had her first kiss. With a trembling hand she pressed her fingertips to her slightly swollen lips, a smile curving them as her eyes took on a far away light.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Here we go, another update. I swear it seems like I have been working on this one forever. Sorry about the shortness, but the following chapter should be twice in length. And I promise that it'll be worth this paltry offering. As always loves to all my readers and I hope you enjoy._

Mark found himself standing in a clearing not far from the house. In his agitated state he didn't notice the warm breeze that picked up when he dropped down onto the stump that sat in the middle of the clearing.

"Why in the hell did I run away?" He asked aloud as he ran his hand through his hair.

"I don't know. Why did you?" Came a whispered response.

Mark jumped up and whirled around. Standing behind him stood a woman dressed in earthy tones with her blonde hair floating on the breeze.

"Who are you?" He asked warily.

"In life I was called Maeve."

"What do you mean 'in life'?"

"What do you think I mean?"

Mark paled as she glided over towards him, the air dropping a few degrees. She looked familiar but he couldn't place her face. For along moment they stared at one another, silence prevailing in the clearing. Then Mark laughed and shook his head.

"I've got to be losing my damned mind."

"Why?"

"Talking with a dead woman, killer cats. There's no way that I'm not imagining things."

"Why must you be imagining things? Is it so far fetched to believe that you're talking to someone from the other side?"

"Yes. Yes it is. The dead don't talk and cats don't plot yer death. Once yer gone, yer gone. There's no do overs, no coming back."

"No wonder my daughter is aggravated." She grumbled.

"Yer daughter?" Mark questioned, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes."

Mark continued to star at the woman, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. The sun shifted slightly and Mark's mouth dropped open when he finally placed her face. She looked uncannily like the girl from the house. Different hair color, but otherwise the same facial features.

"Finally he gets it. The bald headed one didn't take that long."

Mark frowned at the woman and crossed his arms over his chest. He was more convinced now than ever that he was being made the butt of a prank orchestrated by Vince. There was no way that he was standing in the middle of nowhere talking to the girls' dead 'mother'. If anything she was her sister. But then again the house didn't show signs of multiple people living there. But again he was sure that she didn't live there all the time. He didn't know why Vince started this damned joke, but he was bound and determined to find out why.

"Listen I know that this is a joke. So you can drop the act. Just tell me what's going on already." He demanded.

Maeve shook her head and sighed. She really hated the living sometimes. They always thought that they were right, when in fact 90% of the time they were wrong. The only thing keeping her from fading from sight and staying out of it was the striking resemblance between the black haired giant and the rejected lover from so long ago. In fact Maeve was sure that buried in the subconscious was the memories of the spurned lover, that the man standing in front of her was the reincarnation of Ian McDaniel. Each daughter carried the memories of Neala Loaghaire, but every so often the reincarnations of Lachlan, Corianne, and Ian showed themselves. And in ever reincarnation the McMahon line and the Loaghaire line merge again. None of the females being strong enough to over come the orders given.

The players were in place, and all that needed to happen was for Brielle to choose to follow her heart instead of what she was told to do. Then maybe, just maybe her family would be released from it's curse. Maeve could almost feel the agitation rolling off the large man and let out a small sigh, this was going to take awhile. She had never unlocked the repressed memories before. The last twining of the McMahon and Loaghaire line being thirty years before her birth. She hoped that she had the strength to do it properly. She sent up a quick plea for strength before speaking to him.

"Have a seat." She said as she glided over.

"Why?" He challenged.

"Do you what to know what's going on or not?"

Mark nodded his head and sat back down on the stump. She glided closer still and he could feel the change in temperature, but where it had been slightly cooler earlier it was now warm. Her eyes bore into his, an impossible mix of green and gold, the color seemingly swirling around the pupil. Despite the sudden warmth Mark shuddered, his skin prickling as some unseen force boxed him in.

"To understand the present you must first understand your past." She intoned, never once taking her eyes away from his.

"I don't understand." Mark gasped out, he was having trouble breathing but he didn't know why. Her hands weren't touching him, there was nothing around his throat. It was as if the air had thickened in his lungs and he was laboring to push it out.

"You will."

Gently she placed her palms on either side of his face and with a gasp Mark lost consciousness, a whirl wind of sensations battering his mind. His body slumped forwards, his eyes open but unseeing and his breathing shallow.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I own nothing! hahahaha. Anyways here is the chapter I promised yesterday. I hope you all enjoy!_

When Mark came too he was standing in a vast field and the aroma of heather hung heavily in the air. He looked around but all he could see was lush rolling hills. Off in the distance was a sparkling azure lake with a grove of trees on one side. A warm breeze picked up and he knew without looking that the woman from the clearing was there.

"Where are we?" He questioned without turning around.

"Why don't you tell me Ian?"

"Ian? Who the hell is Ian? My name is Mark."

"Look inside for the answers you seek."

Mark growled and whirled around, intent on giving the crazy woman a piece of his mind. But there was no one behind him. Thinking that she was playing a joke on him he turned his head quickly from side to side to see if he could catch her in the act of moving. As he turned he seen a perfect copy of his younger self trekking up the hill, his auburn hair blowing in the breeze. The sight of it rendered Mark speechless, it was one thing to see yourself on tv but to come face to face with yourself was something completely different. Mark started to say something, but he walked right through himself. With a look of disbelief on his face he turned around and watched his retreating back.

"What's going on woman!" He growled.

"This is your past Ian." Her voice said in his ear. "Don't you remember?"

"No."

"Then follow and find your answers."

Confused Mark started after himself, mentally calling himself a fool for believing in this. His red headed twin was a good pace ahead of him and it took all his speed to catch up. He was breathing so heavily that he was sure that he could hear himself. They were heading towards the lake, Loch McPherson and Mark was startled that he knew the name of the body of water. They grew closer and closer to the grove of trees, and he faintly heard the sound of groaning. His younger self stopped dead and tilted his head and then took off in a sprint towards the sound. With a curse he started to run too, not wanting to loose sight of himself. They busted into a clearing and he ran right through himself, stopping when he seen two naked people on the ground.

"Neala." Came the breathed name from behind him.

"Ian?" The woman on the ground turned her head, tears glistening in her eyes when she seen him standing there.

The man turned his head, a satisfied grin on his face and Mark drew back. A younger Vince McMahon was staring at him as he continued to thrust into the woman underneath him. The woman turned her head and Mark's breath caught in his throat for a second time, it was the girl from the house. Her hair fanned out around her as her eyes were closed against the intrusion. Two howls filled the clearing a minute later, one of sorrow and one of completion. Vince pulled out and stood, not caring about his nudity and kicked the womans' skirt at her.

"Get dressed ye tart." He commanded.

"Laird McMahon." Mark's younger self stepped up and Mark could see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Ah should be a killen ye for the wrong ye have dealt me."

"Bah, wot wrong? There were nae virgins blood spilt this day. Think of wot ah've done as a favor to ye. Ye ken now that ye bonny lass was nae longer puir. Who ken how many a lad she's taken?"

Mark could see the pain in his own eyes and with a rush memories that he never knew he had rushed over him. The pain of finding out that his one true love had been unfaithful. The shame of knowing that she had laid with another of her own violation. Snippets of her trying to talk him only for him to walk away, his anger so far out of control that if he didn't leave he would throttle her. Neala, his one and only. He seen himself hunting for the deadly belladonna, and heard his dying words. Tears rolled down his face as the scene faded, he had killed himself over the infidelity of his lover.

"Ian." The name was whispered but Mark looked back up, drawn from his morbid memories.

The scene sharpened again and the woman was now sitting on her knees in front of Laird McMahon. Her head was bowed but Mark could tell that she was angry, her fists like his own were balled at her sides itching to inflict damage.

"Ye see my dear, nae one disobeys the laird and gets away with it. Ye are my property and ye'll do wot I tell ye. Do you ken?"

She remained quiet, a move that earned her a backhand from McMahon and Mark felt his blood heat up. She took the hit but still didn't say anything, her eyes burning with hate as she stared at Vince....no Lachlan. That time Mark didn't even wonder at how he knew his name, it just filled him with hate, and remorse. She had been punished for not obeying, she hadn't willingly laid with the laird. Hope burgeoned in his chest and just as quickly as he had found himself in this place he found himself back in the clearing near the house.

"Do you remember it all now Ian?"

"I do." Mark turned around. "But I am no longer Ian McDaniel. I am Mark Calaway."

"I know that, but to break the curse, Ian needs to reclaim his love."

"Curse? What curse."

"You weren't the only one to stumble across Neala and Lachlan. Lachlan's wife Corianne found the two. Unlike you she did something about it."

"What?" Mark was genuinally interested, and had forgotten that he was supposedly talking to a dead woman.

"She ferreted out the local sorceress and had her place upon our line a curse. This curse robbed our line of any male descendants that might have brought an end to it too soon, and tied our two lines together. She knew that Lachlan wasn't in love with Neala, so she had the sorceress place on the curse a condition in which to break it."

"And what is that?"

"The reincarnation of Ian must force the reincarnation of Neala to forgo her orders and follow her heart."

"That's it?'

"That's it."

"And why hasn't this happened before?"

"There has only been three reincarnations, and each time history has repeated itself. But now that you know the real reason behind what happened you can end it."

"So your daughter is going to sleep with Vince?" Mark questioned, he was confused now.

"No. Her orders from Vince are to treat the superstars without getting involved."

"Too late. She's, erm pregnant with Glen's child."

"No, no, no. Involved, in love. She can dally with anyone she chooses, but she can't involve her heart."

"Vince can't control that." Mark said with a frown. "It ludicrous for him to even suggest that."

"True, but he has threatened to no longer send you all out here when you need breaks. And if that happens then there is no way for us to end the curse."

"If all this is true, how will you know that the curse has been ended?"

"My daugthers' child will be a boy. The first boy born to our family since before Neala."

A warm breeze kicked up and Mark found himself alone in the clearing, his head spinning with what he had been shown and what had been unlocked in the recesses of his mind. He sighed, there was no way that this was true. It was all some hoax, but Mark couldn't shake the deep seated feeling that it was real. After all there was no way that Vince could have transported him to other place and put on a show like the one he had seen. And he had come back to the clearing near the house while he had been awake.

Mark turned towards the house and started a slow pace towards it, his mind trying to process everything. With in minutes he was standing in the doorway watching her move around the room straightening miscellaneous things. As he watched the air seemed to shimmer and Neala was standing before him and he moved of his own violation. Stealthily he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, dipping his head down and licking at the nape of her neck.

"Mr. Calaway." She breathed.

"Mark. My name is Mark."

"Mark?"

"Don't speak, just feel."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Thank you to all my readers and I hope that you enjoy this next installment. And the return of AC, what is up with this cat?_

Brielle melted into Mark's embrace, his strong arms acting like an anchor for her raging senses. The sensations being both new and comfortingly familiar at the same time. She turned around and stared up into his eyes and forgot how to breathe. He dipped his head and lightly caught her lips, gently nibbling on the lower one; a silent plea for entrance. Her body switched over to autopilot as his tongue gently and lazily explored her mouth. Her arms raised of their own accord and wrapped around his neck, drawing him as close as she could. Mark lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her body craving the feel of him.

"Room?" He rasped when he pulled away for a minute.

"Down the hall....last door on the right." She gasped out as he tightened his hold on her.

Mark nodded and followed her directions, biting back groans as she placed feather light kisses along his jaw line and neck. Brielle for her part was now drowning in the raging torrent of feelings and sensations that were rocketing through her body. His kisses were gentle yet demanding and she had the feeling that her lips were going to be swollen again after it was all said and done. Deep down she felt a tightening start, like the winding of spring or a clock. Every little touch, innocent or not drew moans and sighs from her and Brielle blushed as she imagined what Mark was thinking of her.

Mark was having a hard time keeping a clear head. Images from the past and the here and now melted together until he had no sense of time or place. Her gentle hesitant kisses and caresses were driving him mad, it was as if she was a virgin. And if he didn't know better he'd believe her act, but she had admitted to sleeping with Glen and who knew how many others. He made it to the room at the end of the hall and kicked the door open, barely hearing the sound of it slamming against the wall. He paused to look around the room, trying to get a bearing on the layout of the room. After all it wouldn't be sexy to trip over an errant ottoman and squash your lover.

The room was dominated by a large four postered bed, done entirely in white with sheer white hangings. On the wood floor around the bed were white Ermine rugs, just begging for someone to dig their toes in its softness. At the foot of the bed was a large wooden trunk. Both the bed and the trunk looked years old, giving Mark the impression of heirlooms. He strode over to the bed and placed her down gently, smiling as he seen the passion glazed look on her face. He unhooked her legs and moaned as they slowly lowered down his legs until he was essentially standing between them. He flattened his hand against her abdomen, his fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt.

Her muscles quivered and he watched as she fought for control of her senses. He inched his hand up slowly, delighting in the way she bit her lip to keep her sighs and moans to herself. His fingertips brushed the underneath of her right breast and he grinned as she jumped. Her eyes widened and locked with his, surprise and lust fighting for domiance in their emerald depths. His hand was moving up to cup it when he felt a stinging pain in his calf. With a growl Mark looked down and seen that damn cat with it's claws sunk deep into his muscle. He moved away from her and bent down to grab the cat by the scruff of the neck but that damned thing turned it's head and bit down on his hand.

With a howl Mark pulled his hand back and glared at the cat, which still had it's claws in his leg and was swiping at his other leg with it's free paw. He reached back down and grabbed it by its neck, yanking it away from his leg; grimacing as the claws tore free. It dangled from his hand, spitting and growling and trying to cause as much damage as it could. If looks could kill was the only thing that could describe the hatred that was swirling in the eyes of the beast and Mark shivered before giving it a hard shake. It made a pitiful yowl and he doubled over a second later as a second white hot pain shot through his body. His hands quickly moved down and cupped his abused member and he went to his knees with a gasp.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed with murder in her eyes and the cat, that damned cat slunk over to her, acting as if Mark had beaten the hell out of it. She picked it up and cradled the animal to her chest, stroking it's head as she continued to glare at him. Mark pushed himself to his knees and stared hard at the cat. The hell-spawned thing was looking at him smugly and Mark swore that it stuck it's tongue out at him..

"What in the hell is wrong with you? Why on earth would you attack a poor defenseless animal?" She demanded.

"Defenseless? You call that thing defenseless? I'm not bleeding from my leg because I like the color of blood. Yer cat, if that's what it really is, attacked me."

"None sense. AC would never attack anyone. He's a lover." She protested.

"Lady, yer delirous. That thing attacked me. Just like earlier, it launched itself at me." Mark said, trying to get his point across.

"Mr. Calaway I think you are needing more help than I can offer." She said as she got up from her spot on the bed. "I'm going to call Vince tomorrow and tell him that you're on your way back."

"What?!?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Calaway for wasting your time."

She walked out of the room, leaving the cat on the bed to glare at him. With a growl Mark pushed himself back to his feet and stalked over to the animal, pinning it to the bed with his hand. It twisted, spitting and growling in it's effort to get free. Mark increased the pressure until it somewhat stilled its fight. He moved his hand a picked it up by the scruff of its neck and brought to eye level with him.

"Listen to me cat. Ah doan care wot ye be, but Ah have a destiny to fulfill, and a curse to be breaking." Mark lapsed into the Irish brogue from his past and watched transfixed as cats' eyes took on an intelligent almost human look. What happened next about knocked him on his ass.

"Ye may have a curse to break, but Ah have the job of making sure it doan happen." The cat hissed.

It took a swipe at Mark and grazed his cheek. Startled he dropped the cat and watched as it darted out of the room. His rational mind was trying to process what had just happened. There was no way that the cat had spoke to him. Was there? After that morning in the clearing Mark wasn't so sure.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Not much longer in this fic, I already have the end written, so maybe three or four more chapts. I want to thank everyone that has read and reviewed. Your thoughts and comments mean so much to me. And I hope that you all enjoy this latest installment._

Brielle was sitting in the kitchen staring at a spot on the wall as she tried to calm her senses and put her mind back to rights. AC was sitting on the counter across from her watching her every movement curiously. She seemed to be in a trance and he wondered what or who she was talking to in her mind. There was a loud bang from upstairs and he smiled, his mistress would be so proud. Maybe enough to kill this forced curse she'd placed on him so long ago. He had now ruined four attempts of Ian to take what he'd been denied. Brielle moved, pulling AC from his thoughts and he purred unconsciously as she rubbed her hand down his back on her way out of the kitchen.

He waited a couple of minutes to make sure that she wasn't coming back in before padding quickly over to the window by the sink. He raised up on his back paws and planted his front ones firmly on the window pane and put as much pressure on it as he could. With a creak that had him shuddering he slipped through the now open window and bounded as quickly as possilble to the clearing. With one huge bound he found himself sitting on the stump and raised his head, eyes closed as the wind picked up. His furry legs transformed into arms and legs and soon a young boy was standing there awaiting the appearance of his mistress.

He wasn't kept waiting long, another brisk wind picked up and when it died down a hauntingly beautiful woman with hair the color of night and eyes the color of spun gold stood staring at him. He jumped down off the stump and hit a knee in reverence.

"What have ye to report lad?" She questioned, her voice low and throaty.

"Mistress, Ian as returned once again. He's in the house now."

"Wot?!?! What be ye here then ye daft lad?" She screeched.

"There's no cause to worry, he'll be gone upon the morn." He said as he bowed his head.

"How do ye know this?" She questioned as she paced back and forth, her dress billowing out behind her.

"Because I made it so this eve. I have my tactics Mistress."

"Sae ye do." She glided over and he shivered as she ran her fingers down his face. "Go and make sure that naught happens between them before he's departure upon the morn."

"Yes Mistress."

She backed off and another brisk wind whisked her back into the void between life and death. With a sigh he perched atop the stump once more and waited for his transformation.

* * *

Mark was sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the wall. His mind was still in shock over what had happened. The cat had talked to him. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. There was no way that this was really happening to him. Cats don't talk. It's a proven fact. Maybe she was right, maybe he needed more help than what she could give. He stood up, wincing as the wound to his calf burned. He paced slowly, his mind trying to come up with a way to keep her from making that call. Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Mark looked up to see her standing in the door way. For a few minutes they just stared at each other and Mark had the funny feeling that this had happened before.

"Mr. Calaway the hour grows late. Your room is down the hall on the left."

"You don't want me to go do you?" He asked as he moved towards her.

"It'd be in your best interest if you did." She responded as he moved so that he was an arms length away.

"Lil one you can't deny the calling between us. See yer shivering just standing this close to me." He whispered as he ran one of his large hands down her arm. "You want me, I can see it in yer face darlin."

Brielle didn't get a chance to say anything before he pulled her close for another head spinning kiss. Of their own accord her arms once again wound themselves around his neck and she all but melted into him. She couldn't fight destiny, her tongue craved his taste as much as her body suddenly craved his touch. It was growing warm and in what seemed like a blink of an eye she was standing only in her underwear as Mark looked his fill. Her hair; which had still been it's braid when she entered the room, lay in shining waves around her face and she blushed as Mark took a deep breath.

Gently, as if she would break, Mark pulled her close again and covered her lips with his, prodding the mosit seam with his tongue until she allowed him entry. She moaned at the contact and started to tug at his shirt. With a laugh that vibrated through her he moved back and whisked his shirt off and tossed behind him before kissing her again. Hands roamed skin and teeth and lips left glistening trails on necks and shoulders as their exploration grew more bold. Mark moved one hand from her waist and slipped a finger past the barrier of her panties, pressing his knuckle against her nether lips.

With a gasp her eyes went wide and Mark couldn't wait another minute to be inside her. He moved her back to the bed and guided her down with one hand as the other was fighting with his pants. Soon he was free of the constricting material and laid down next to her. Her face was on fire as he flicked his gaze up and down her body. He moved so that he leaning over her and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and suckled on it until it was hard rose colored nub. He then moved on to the other one as his hand moved down and started to slid her panties down her legs.

Brielle was drowning again in a flurry of sensations and didn't know what to do or which was to turn. The only thing she knew with certainty was that if she didn't calm the storm that was building between her legs she would die. Mark sunk one finger into her wet heat and she arched up, instinctively knowing that it would offer the release that she sought. With wild abandon she rode his finger, her moans getting louder as he added another. And then there it was, the storm burst and she threw her head back and cried as her body trembled and shivered as Mark continued to move his fingers in and out.

She was floating down from her high when she felt a piercing pain flood through her. She stiffened and looked up at Mark whose mouth was hanging open. She let out a breath and waited for the yelling to begin. But it never happened, instead she felt him move slowly and soon the pain gave way to blinding pleasure. Mark brought his hands down from her waist and cupped her behind, raising her slightly so that she could take even more of him. To her surprise she felt the spring in her lower abdomen tightening again and the storm was once again building.

They were so lost to their combined pleasure that they didn't notice the a wind circling around the bed. All that mattered was that they put out the fire that was raging between them. Mark's thrusts gradually picked up speed until he was pounding in and out of her as fast and as hard as he could. She was thrashing around under him and he felt himself about to blow. He moved a hand between them and started to rub her clit, and with a cry that was three seconds ahead of his she fell into the void.

The wind hit tornado strength as Mark fell down next to her, out of breath and more sated than he had been in a long time. He looked at her, wanting an explaination for the decpetion but before he could open his mouth the air seemed to be sucked out of his lungs and he passed out.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I couldn't let the story end that way. And I never really let my oc's off that easy. There be a few more chapters than I stated in the last chapter, but I have the feeling that y'all don't mind. Thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed and I hope y'all like this newest chapt._

Mark sat up slowly, his head pounding and his lungs burning. When his vision cleared the first thing that he noticed was that he was in a hotel room, alone.

"Ye bluidy, dumb bastard. Now look wot ye done."

Mark whirled around, cursing as his head thudded painfully. There sitting in one of the chairs in the room was AC, his tail flicking as he eyed Mark sternly. Why was that damned thing still here? And why was it talking to him. Mark eyed it cautiously as he moved out of the bed. His head was spinning but he was damned if he was going to look weak in front of that hell spawned creature.

"What? I broke the curse." Mark said in his defense, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

"Nae ye didn't. Atleast not all the way."

"What's that mean? How can someone half break a curse. You either do or you don't." Mark argued, idly wondering why he was fighting with a cat.

"Ye managed to do what Ian did not. He never took her innocence. But ye didn't win her heart afore ye did it." AC explained as he jumped down from his perch and started pace.

"So what?"

"Sae it means that while somethings have been changed a part of the curse is still in effect. My mistress was a verry strong sorceress."

"What do you mean things have changed?" This talking in riddles was driving Mark insane.

"I doan ken wot's changed, it could be for the best or the worst."

"How could it get worse from what it was?"

"It can always get worse."

Mark started to pace, this was too weird for him. Talking cats, witches, curses, dead women talking to him. IF he had known that getting into professional wrestling was going to take his sanity he never would have done it. He ran his hands through his hair frustratedly, if what AC was saying was true then he didn't know what was waiting for him. Maybe the WWF never took off and Vince was working for WCW. If WWF never took off then there was no WWE. Maybe he was little more than a jobber to people like DDP or even worse, Ralphus. What if he never even broke into professional wrestling? That thought stopped him in his tracks, what havoc had he wreaked with the simple act of sleeping with someone.

There was a knock on his door and Mark turned to look at it with wide eyes. He had no idea what to expect and part of him wanted to just crawl back into bed and stay there.

"Ye'll never ken the changes if you don't answer the door." AC from his new spot on the bed.

"Mark? You in there Mark?"

It was Glen. Mark let out a sigh of relief and headed over to the door. If Glen was here then it had to be ok. He opened the door and stopped dead. Glen was standing there....but he still had a head full of hair. His body was still toned. Had he gone back in time? The look on his face must have confused Glen for he took a step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You ok Mark?" Glen asked, concern coloring his eyes.

"Huh?" Mark stammered, still dumbfounded by the sight in front of him.

"I think you should skip this meeting man. If Vince sees you like this again he'll fire your ass for sure." Glen led him over to the bed and lightly pushed him into a sitting position. "Mark sometimes I think you take Mean Mark Callous too far."

"I'm not The Undertaker yet?" Mark asked more confused than ever. He had to have gone back in time if Glen was calling him Mean Mark.

"Why would you be The Undertaker? That's been Lee's gimmick since '94. Mark I think the drink has gone to your head."

"What year is it then?" Mark asked, desperation evident in his voice.

"2009." Glen sounded wary and Mark didn't blame him, he probably seemed completely out of his mind.

"Hey, you just rest and I'll stop by after the meeting and let you know what's going on."

"N-no. I'll go. Can't have Vince on my back for this." Mark smiled weakly and got to his feet, heading towards the door.

"Dontcha think you should put some pants on before you leave?" Glen called out.

Mark looked down and flushed red. He was completely naked from the waist down. He ducked his head and hurried over to what he supposed was his bag and ruffled through it. Quickly he pulled out a pair of black jeans and a pair of boxer briefs. Without questioning his choice of clothes he pulled them on and headed to the door. On the way he passed a mirror and stopped, his hair was short, like it was when he was Big Evil. He hated that hair cut, but he supposed that it looked right on Mean Mark. Glen walked up next to him and Mark grinned, it was kinda like looking in a mirror of the past.

"You ready old man?"

"Old? Yer only two years younger." Mark scowled.

"Let's not get into this now. Vince is waiting." Glen said, bumping Mark's shoulder as he walked past, he stopped at the door and looked at Mark with a smirk. "Oh and Mark...."

"Yea?"

"Leave your pussy here."

"Wha?" Mark questioned, then stopped when he felt the slight weight on his shoulder.

He turned his head and seen AC curled around his neck and wondered when he had taken up that spot. With a hiss he grabbed AC and dropped the cat on the bed with a whispered 'stay put'. AC swiped at him and glared, and Mark had the feeling that he was going to hear it later. He walked over and joined Glen, punching him in the shoulder when he walked past. It didn't stop Glen from snickering but it made him feel slightly better. They headed down to the room that the hotel set aside for the meeting and took a seat in the back. In front of them were Hunter and Shawn, and Mark was shocked to see how touchy feely they were.

He looked around the room and took in the wide array of faces, some old, some new and some that he couldn't even remember. There was a loud throat clearing and Mark looked up. Vince was standing at the podium glaring at the assembled mass.

"_I guess somethings never change._" Mark thought as the room grew quiet.

"I know you all are wondering why I called you here so early on a Saturday morning." There were a few grumbles that Vince ignored as he continued. "Starting this week my daughters are going to be taking over the role of GM of RAW and SmackDown." Groaning filled the room and Vince raised his hands to signal for quiet. "Look we need all the fire power we can get if we're going to put ECW in their place. They've acquired TNA and are looking to take us down. Stephanie will be at the helm on RAW. And Brielle will be running SmackDown! Now you will do every thing they tell you. The first time you screw up, it's the future endeavors list for you."

Mark sat back confused. Vince only had one daughter, Stephanie. His mouth dropped open a minute later when both Stephanie and Brielle stepped up to the podium together. Glen nudged him and motioned for him to wipe his chin. He couldn't believe it. She was now Vince's daughter. Things just got a lot more complicated. Through the rest of the meeting Mark kept his eyes glued to Brielle. She looked exactly the same way she had when they were in the forest. She caught him staring once at her and glared at him, an almost perfect rendition of Vince's glare. Mark had looked away and stood when the meeting was adjourned. He started towards the door, listening to Glen talk about some story line but was stopped dead when his name rang out over the room.

"Mr. Calaway. Would you kindly stay behind for a word?"

He turned around and seen Brielle standing in front of the podium with her hands on her hips and glaring at him hard. Glen patted his back and wished him luck as he disappeared through the door. Once everyone was gone she approached him and Mark swallowed hard.

"Now see here Mr. Calaway. I know of your problems and I'm going to tell you now that that type of behaviour will not be tolerated on my show. I'll give you one month to clean it up. At the end of each week you will report to me for a series of tests. Fail one and you're done. Am I clear?" She demanded.

"Yes ma'am." He murmured, wondering what had happened to the soft spoken young woman he had met in the woods.

"Good. You're dismissed."

She turned her back and headed over to where Shane and Stephanie were talking things over and going over a large leather bound book. Mark left the room and headed back to his own, his mind trying to come up with a plan. The only thing that he new for certain was this just became a whole hell of a lot harder.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Ok, I think I created more questions, but I do plan on answering them all before it's over. So don't kill me Souless. lol And WF part of this was inspired by your review. lol Hopefully your muse isn't too mad at me. Anyways I hope y'all enjoy!_

Mark's head was spinning as he let himself into his room. There were so many questions that he needed answers to. The main one was, why did things change so much? So he slept with her, that shouldn't have changed things. The other one was, why in the hell was he Mean Mark? That gimmick sucked big time. Although one could argue that it was the predecessor of the American Bad Ass gimmick. Vince's daughter. She was now Vince's daughter. He couldn't get his mind wrapped around it.

"Sae, wot's all changed?"

Mark was so involved with his thoughts that he had forgotten that AC was there and he jumped, sucking in a breath as he did so. Once his heart rate calmed down some he leveled the cat with a death glare.

"Come now lad, ye doan be thinking that that puny stare is gunna scare me do ye?" AC mocked.

"Why are you even here?" He demanded.

"Ye didn't think that Ah'd be letting ye do this on ye own after ye botched the first one did ye?"

"And just what are you going to be doing. In case you have forgotten, yer a cat."

"Trust me lad, I ken I'm a bluidy cat. Ye just do wot ah'll be telling ye and it'll be over soon."

"I don't think that's going to happen. I'm pretty sure that the tactics that you use for mating isn't going to work for me." Mark grinned over at AC, but jumped back when AC launched himself at Mark.

"Look here, I doan like this any more than ye do. But Ah would like to be getting home some time soon. Sae we're gonna have to work together to get this done." AC hissed as he raked his claws across Mark's face.

"Oww! Dammit, if you don't stop that I'm going to go and get you declawed." Mark growled as he tossed AC to the other side of the bed and pressed his hand to cheek to stop the bleeding.

"Ye wouldn't dare."

"Try me." Mark said as he got up to survey the damage.

He heard AC moving around the room and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Down one side of his cheek were four perfect lines, small amounts of blood sweeping from them. His reflection looked so pitiful that he started laughing. Where was the confident badass that he has worked years to become? He never let anyone talk to him like he let her. Even Vince tread on eggshells around him. The questions from earlier were back and he needed the answers now before he cracked up. With a sigh he turned to the one thing that could help him....the internet. Luckily for him the hotel had an internet cafe that had computers that guests could use for free.

AC had draped himself around Mark's neck and refused to budge. Instead of fighting with the damned creature he just cleaned his cheek up the best he could and headed down. He signed in for a computer and picked one that was in the far back. He hated using them, in fact he really didn't know how to do much more than just turn it on. Glen had tried to teach him but it never really sunk in. Mark always felt that there were better things to be doing than sitting in front of a machine doing nothing.

"Well, wot are ye waiting for?' AC hissed lowly as Mark stared at the screen.

"I've never really used one of these things before." Mark grumbled as he tapped a few key so that he wouldn't look completely out of place.

AC's sides started to shake and Mark turned his head to glare at the cat. Before either he or AC could whisper something, arms wrapped around from behind, jostling AC out of his spot and making him growl in his throat.

"What's the matter babe, lost?" A low feminine voice said in his ear.

"Hmm?" It was the only sound that Mark could make with out his voice cracking, and he tried to move his head to get a look at the person standing behind him.

"Are you lost? You never use the computer."

The person moved around to his side and Mark turned so that he could get a good look at her. Her short dirty blonde hair was highlighted randomly with a lighter blonde and her teeth were perfectly straight and white. She was wearing a plain black shirt with a butterfly dusted with glitter and some high end blue jeans. Her blue eyes were twinkling with life and Mark had the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, he just couldn't place her.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" He asked, feeling completely lost.

"Do you know me?!? You had better know me assclown." She all but screeched.

"Chris?" Mark's eyes went wide as it clicked in his mind.

"Who the hell else would I be?"

"I....I had a little too much to drink last night, so I'm a little slow this morning." He said, trying to make sense of everything.

"Alcohol better be the reason, if I hear one more rumor about you and McSlut I'm going to personally rip your balls off and feed them to her."

With that Chris stomped out, leaving Mark staring after her with a dumbfounded look on his face. So he was sleeping with Chris? AC climbed back up to his perch and snickered quietly into Mark's ear.

"Seems ye are in a bit of a pickle lad."

"Shut up you. I'm moving on to plan B." Mark growled as he got to his feet and headed out of the cafe.

"And that is?"

"I'm going to see Glen. I'm sure he can set me straight on what's been going on."

"Are ye sure that's wise. Remember the way he looked at you this morn?"

"What else can I do. This not knowing shit is driving me up a wall."

A few minutes later he was standing outside of Glen's door, debating on whether or not to knock. He had dropped AC back off at the room, saying that he came along it would just further Glen's wariness of him. He raised his hand to knock, hoping that his friend would be able to give him the answers that he was looking for. If not, Mark was afraid of the trouble he could cause, and he had caused enough as it was. He took a deep breath and rapped hard on the door a couple of times. He heard grumbling from the other side and waited as the lock was undone. Glen blinked at him and Mark felt bad for interrupting his mid morning nap, something that he found comfortingly familiar.

"What?" He growled.

"Glen I need your help."

"Did you piss Chris off again?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I think so, but this isn't about her." Mark said, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Then what?" Glen's interest was peaked, he wasn't used to seeing Mark like this.

"I'll tell you inside. I don't want anyone to over hear me."

Glen moved to the side and watched as Mark stalked in and started to pace. With a confused look Glen shut the door and ambled back over to the bed, dropping down and watching Mark for a moment. The silence was wearing on Mark and he ran his hands through his short hair as he started to speak.

"Glen, my memory is slipping. I think that the drink has finally taken it toll. I'm having trouble remembering things." Mark started slowly.

"Like what?"

"Everything, I asked Chris who she was."

"Oh, shit. You're going to die." Glen said with a smirk.

"But that's not all, I don't remember anything other than waking up today."

"Whaddya mean?"

"The name of the company is slipping, it's right there on the tip of my tongue but I can't recall it."

"WWF."

"I thought the panda people sued us for using that name."

"They did, but Vince won. Although we were going to change it to WCWF."

"Alright, it's coming back slowly. What about Lee? You said he's been 'Taker since '94. Who played him before that. If I remember the gimmick started in '90."

"Nah, there was talk of it starting in '90 but they couldn't find someone to fill the part. Then Lee just happened to come to an event and Bill about orgasmed over him. So he was picked up and trained quickly before being turned loose in the ring."

"That's right." Mark said, feinging rememberance. "What about you, aren't you his brother? Kane or something?"

"Nooo. Mark I think you really should be seeing someone for this." Glen said, concern flooding his eyes.

"It's nothing, it happens sometimes." Mark said waving it off.

Glen looked at him, not at all sure of his answer. But he shrugged his shoulders and got back up, yawning and stretching. Mark relented some, feeling really back for interrupting his nap and started towards the door.

"Thank you Glen. I'm sorry for waking you up. Dinner on me tonight?" Mark said lightly, fully intending on weaseling more information out of him.

"Sure. But I really think that you should go see a doctor or something before it gets worse."

"If it gets worse I promise I will. So dinner, 9-ish?"

"It's a date...erm a deal." Glen said pinkening.

Mark smiled and walked out of the door, pleased with what little information he had gleaned from him friend. Although a part of him hated the fact that he was using him for answers. However the quicker he could think of a way outta here and back to his own reality the sooner he could be sharing a dinner with _his _Glen. He took a deep breath and headed back to his room, feeling alittle lighter than he had before.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Nothing really happens in this chapter, but I feel like this is the best chapt in the story so far._

_And Souless I forgot to add, I was going on the old adage that if you change so much as one tiny thing, then everything changes around you. You can never fathom what would change if just one little thing did or did not happen. In this case, Jericho becoming a girl due to Marks inability to keep it in his pants. lol._

_WF & Chris, Chris you got changed. You weren't a woman to begin with. You can blame Taker for it, it was all his fault. lol And I'm glad that you were amused. Plus I have no doubt that you would look good in a sparkly butterfly shirt. *tosses stickers to Chris* _

_Alright, enough of the note, y'all came to read the story so here it is and like always, Enjoy!_

* * *

Around 9:15 Mark showed up outside of Glen's room. He knocked and rocked back and forth as he waited, wondering how he was going to wheedle more information out of him. The door opened a minute later and Glen stood in the door way and Mark's mouth dropped open. He was wearing tight black jeans that left nothing to the imagination and a Hawaiian print shirt that was left open to show off the white a-shirt he had on underneath. His hair was pulled back in a hasty pony tail, a few tendrils hanging around his face.

"Ready?" Mark asked, shutting his mouth with a snap.

"Yup." Glen grinned as he stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him.

"Hawaiian print huh?"

"Yea, only thing I had clean." Glen's voice was low and Mark thought he heard the distinct sound of hurt in his voice.

He glanced over and seen that Glen had his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his head down. It was Glen's classic rejection stance and Mark frowned slightly. What in the world did he have to feel rejected about? Maybe he was hoping to see someone while they were out and was looking to impress her. With a playful shoulder bump Mark looked over at him and smiled.

"Soooo, who is she?" He asked when Glen looked over at him.

"I don't know what you mean." Glen said looking confused.

"You were looking all rejected, so who were you looking to impress? Hmmm, I bet it was Beth. She's a hot little number." Mark mused.

"No, it wasn't Beth."

"Mickie?"

"No."

"Hmm." Mark combed his fingers through his close cut beard and thought, but nothing came to mind. "Give me a hint?"

Glen stayed quiet but Mark could see the blush rising up the side of his neck. He watched as Glen then reached up and rubbed the back of his neck slowly as if stalling for time. It was obvious that Mark had put him on the spot so he relented for now, but kept an eye on those around him to see if he could see Glen watching someone in particular. Not really sure about the town they were in, Mark had called down to the hotel and made plans at the hotel restaurant. The matredi was standing at a podium near a set of double doors and Mark grinned as he placed both hands on the shiny surface, earning him a snarl from the short man.

"May I help you?" The matredi said in a snobby voice, looking hautily at them.

"Yes, a reservation under the name of Calaway, party of two."

"Right this way sir."

Given the tone of the mans voice Mark figured that he'd rather put them out in the street and lock the door. So his grin got even wider as they were shown to one of the better tables in the joint. Once they were seated Mark waved the man away, watching amused as his jaw tightened and he bowed stiffly at him. Glen had taken his seat and was busy looking the over menu, keeping his eyes studiously away from Mark.

"What's the matter Glen?" Mark asked, picking up his own menu and flicking his gaze over it.

"Nothing, just a little....tired still."

It was an pitiful attempt to side step the question and Mark let it slide, his stomach growling loudly. He hadn't eaten all day, preferring to spend most of the day in the gym, listening to AC toss out ideas from his place next to his head as he lifted weights. Thankfully the gym was empty so they were free to converse freely. Glen cleared his throat and Mark looked up, wondering briefly why his face was so red all of a sudden. Before he could ask any questions a waiter came up and took their order, pushing it from Mark's mind.

* * *

"What's the matter Elle?" Shane asked as he watched his youngest sister pick at her salad.

"Hmmm, nothing." She said absentmindedly.

"Doesn't seem like nothing." Stephanie threw in as she placed her napkin in her lap.

"Just wondering what Dad was thinking, putting me in charge of SmackDown." She lied easily. "I mean Shane would have done so much better over there. Those guys are going to eat me alive."

"Please Elle, they're going to be treading on eggshells around you. You're a McMahon, and Dad made it clear that if they disobey you then their going to be looking for a new job."

"You're right Shane."

Their table fell silent and Brielle started to eat a little better. She seen some movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up. The matredi was leading Calaway and Jacobs to a table near the back and she watched Mark's muscular form move effortlessly behind the short balding man. They were seated and she sucked in a breath when she seen Mark smile. Thankful that her table faced theirs or else she had the feeling that she'd have some explaining to do if Shane or Stephanie caught her staring in that direction. Her breath barely registered over Shane and Stephanie's conversation, something she was glad of. If they even had an inkling of what she was thinking they'd never let her live it down.

The waitress that had been assigned to their table showed up and she handed the woman her menu after ordering a plain grilled chicken sandwich with a side of fries. After Shane and Stephanie placed their orders they sat back and eyed Brielle with grins on their faces. Immediately her walls went up and she glared at them in turn. It never boded well for her when they teamed up.

"What?"

"Nothing sis." Stephanie said, the sentence ending in a giggle.

"What?" She said again, turning her attention to Shane.

"Nothing Elle."

She growled at them and looked past them, her eyes unconsciously settling on Mark and Glen. They looking like they were laughing over something and she felt a smile tug at her lips. The smile was replaced by a shriek as ice cold water cascaded down her back. She jumped up and whirled around, finding herself face to face with Adam Copeland and Jay Reso. Adam was standing there with a shocked look as Jay's mouth moved silently, the glass clutched in his hand.

"Ms. McMahon, we are so sorry. It was an accident." Jay stuttered, hurriedly hiding the glass behind his back.

"I'm sure." Brielle said coldly.

"Elle, let it go. They know better than to do something like that. Do you gentlemen." Shane said.

"Y-yes sir." Adam said, looking down.

Brielle turned and glared at her siblings, growling again as Stephanie failed to control her laughter and as Shane cracked a smile. She turned and pinned Jay with a glare, pegging him as the weak on in the scheme. She took a step closer, her eyes flashing emerald fire at him. He shrank back and sent a 'help me' look over at Adam, whom was looking every where but at the two.

"Mr. Reso, you have one chance to save your job." She said lowly, ignoring the looks that were being directed at them now. "Tell me who put you up to this and I'll forget that this happened."

"It was an accident. I-uh tripped over Adam's huge freaking feet." He said, shooting a quick look over to Stephanie and Shane.

"Mr. Reso, I hear that ENAW is looking for talent. And with your style I'm sure that you'll fit right in over there." Brielle said, looking at her nails as if it didn't interest her.

Jay's face went deathly white and he stared at her sister and brother. Just like she thought, those two were behind it. He was shaking visibly and she took pity on him. Her face softened and she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Reso, you're safe. But I'm going to warn you, I will not tolerate that sort of behaviour in my locker room. That goes towards the other talent too. It's not RAW that I'm in charge of, it's SmackDown. Let's have some sense of decorum."

She heard Stephanie gasp and smiled at both Adam and Jay before bidding them goodnight. She didn't bring anything with her to dinner so she moved past them, wanting nothing more than to get out of the wet blouse that was clinging to her body. As she headed to the door she made the mistake of looking over, Mark was watching her as she made her way out. She blushed as she folded her arms and hurried out, unsure why he was affecting her that way. The doors closed behind her and she let out a breath that she hadn't known that she had been holding.

The look on his face had sent shivers through her and she knew that she wasn't going to be able to be alone with him. Whether out of fear of what he would do or what she would wasn't clear and she didn't want to think on it.

_A/N 2: Btw ENAW stands for Extreme Nonstop Action Wrestling. Just thought I'd clear that up in case anyone was confused. lol_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Again, nothing really happens, but here soon Mark and Brielle will cross paths. Enjoy!_

"_There's something you don't see every day._" Mark thought to himself as he watched Brielle hurry from the room.

He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to Glen, his need to get more information about this time line more important that chasing after a woman. Glen had his head down and was still fiddling with the napkin, and Mark had the feeling that if he didn't intercede then the poor thing would end up shredded. He took a moment to study Glen with out the younger man knowing, a small smile tugging at his lips as he traced the line of Glen's neck with his eyes. The skin looked so soft and inviting that he wanted, no had to, taste it. Mark jerked at that thought.

"_Where in the hell did that come from?_" A frown replaced the small smile and he tore his eyes away from Glen, leveling them on the bread basket that sat in the middle of the table.

"Mark?"

It was said so softly that at first Mark thought he was hearing things. None the less he looked up and locked eyes with Glen, or rather gazed at Glen's full lips as they moved.

"Yea?"

"This is the last time......right?"

"What?" Mark asked, confused. "The last time for what?"

"This is the last fight with Chris. You said that the next fight you had was going to be the last and that you would finally......bewithme." The last three words were said in a rush and almost too low for him to hear.

"Glen this might be the alcohol still working it's way outta my system, but what in God's name are you talking about?" Mark sat back and looked at Glen, his eyebrows drawn together as he tried to get a grasp on the conversation.

"Mark, I'm tired of being your rebound when you and Chris are on the outs. I've done it for the past 8 months and either you want to be with me or you don't. After the fight you had last time you told me that if y'all fought again that it was going to be over for good and that you would be with me. Now I know I sound like a nagging fish wife, but dammit, I'm tired of being used." It was hissed quietly so that no one could over hear what they were talking about, but the anger and the hurt were crystal clear.

"Glen, I....I don't know what to say." Mark confessed, wondering just what in the hell the other him was thinking in this parallel world he had found himself thrust into.

"Tell me that you made your decision." Glen all but pleaded.

"I-erm, need some time Glen. This just happened today, and it really wasn't a fight. It was more like I slightly angered her by forgetting who she was. There was no yelling between us. Errr, rather I didn't do any yelling. She just screeched."

"But why put up with that? You booted both Sara and Michelle out rather quickly when they started the harpy routine, what power does she have over you?"

"Glen, let's not talk about this here." He said, not wanting someone to unwittingly over hear them talking.

"Fine." Glen sighed as he got up.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my room. Come see me when you're ready to talk."

It wasn't said huffily, or bitingly. It was said quietly and with a small amount of sadness. Mark turned and watched Glen leave the restaurant, half of him watching his ass as it swayed ever so slightly and the other half wondering what in the hell he was going to do now.

* * *

Brielle sat in her room, going over her roster. There was no doubt that there were going to be firings. In fact she had already picked two people that she was going to let go after the taping this week. They were low mid-carders that constantly broke the rules, instigated fights among the rest of the talent and had an all around bad attitude. Kenneth Doane was the first one she was going to hand a pink slip. He had a blatant disregard for the other talent's safety and had on more than one occasion been involved in altercations with fans. He was a risk that the company couldn't afford. She had already faxed his information over to ENAW under the guise of an independent manager.

The next one to get the axe was Brad Bradley. He got little to no crowd reaction and he was famous for letting his temper lose on the backstage crew. There were few that would work with him and he had taken to hanging out with Kenneth. His mouth was far from pleasant, every other word was 'fuck this' or 'fuck that'. There was just no room in the business for those that weren't willing to learn the trade and treat it with the utmost respect. She had thought about sending his files over as well, but took pity on ENAW. They were going to have their hands full with Kenneth if they decided to take the bait.

And the last one that was laying on the desk was that of Mark Calaway. She stared down at the picture that accompanied the file and sighed. He had an infamous mean streak that anyone could attest to. He had an alcohol problem that more often than not left him incapacitated and rarely ever showed up for house shows. He talked to very few of the others, preferring to spend time with either Glen Jacobs or his flavor of the week. There were already a multitude of strikes against him, but there was something in his eyes that made her think twice about letting him go. She had the feeling that if he could just get his head out of his ass that he could be a great superstar, a maineventer of the same caliber as Ric Flair, Dusty Rhodes, and countless others.

She tucked his file away, promising herself that she'd come to a decision at the end of the month. After all she had given him that long to see if he could clean up. Of course he had to be willing to work with her, something that wasn't guaranteed.

"Who knows he might surprise me." She said with a quiet laugh.

She flipped the folders closed and slipped them back into her brief case, making a mental note to have the releases printed up for Doaneand Bradley. Slowly she rose from the chair, stretching her back and working out the kinks that had managed to set in while she looked over the paper work. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to find it already past 11pm. Time seemed to fly past when she had paperwork to do, and she wasn't even done yet. She still had to make a decision about hiring a few more make up artist, a new head Masseuse, and replacing the senior Ref.

She had changed as soon as she had made it to her room so she relaxed on the bed, flipping channels boredly. There was nothing on t.v. but for some reason her body was still too wired to go to sleep just yet. Instead she moved into a sitting position and started thinking about how she was going to get her brother and sister back. Or rather just Stephanie. She was more than likely the mastermind behind it, but she knew that it wouldn't take much to talk Shane into going along with it. There were many times over the years where he would play on one side or the other in their prank wars. It wasn't as if they were done to actually hurt one another, it was more done in fun when they got bored.

Brielle sat and watched the images flick across the screen, not really seeing what they were. Her mind had gone back to dissecting Mark. He was a mystery that she fully intended on solving. Even though she really didn't know why it mattered. She pushed all thoughts of him out of her head and flopped back on the bed, smacking her head on the headboard. She rubbed the spot, letting out a small moan before settling down and closing her eyes, falling into a fitful sleep a few moments later.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: I hope y'all enjoy this latest offering, I've been torturing my musi until they got to work. lol_

The next night was Monday and Mark was sitting in the locker room, tightening up his studded bracelets. They added a comfortable weight and he smiled despite the great reduction in status in this line. But it was nearing Wrestlemania, and for once he was glad not to have the weight of 'The Streak' sitting on his shoulders. It was the one thing that he didn't envy Lee. He knew what it was like having everyone and their mothers coming after you, wanting to end something that was a legend among men.

He didn't know who he was facing that night, he hadn't made it to the early morning meeting. After Glen had left the restaurant last night Mark had found himself in a bar near the hotel and preceded to drink himself into a stupor. Part of him rebelled at the thought of touching another man the way Glen insinuated that they had _interacted _in times past, but another part of him wanted to feel Glen's hands as they slid up his body. Wanted to feel his tongue as they fought for dominance. Although he had come to the conclusion that Glen was the bitch in this relationship, after all he had been practically pleading with him last night to make up his mind.

Then there was the problem of getting back to his own time. Back to his Glen, and the friends he had left behind. From what he and AC had been able to work out that afternoon before he headed the arena, Mark had to woo Brielle. He had to get her to fall in love with him and then sleep with her, the result should then be a trip back to his time. At least that was what he was hoping. There was a knock on the door and he called out for them to enter without looking up. There was the sound of a throat clearing and finally brought his head up to see who had came in.

Glen was standing in the doorway looking uncomfortable, he kept shifting from foot to foot and kept his eyes down cast. He was dressed in black trunks with a black shirt and black eye liner under his eyes. Combined with his long hair, he looked a little more than an emo and Mark racked his brain to come up with who he might be.

"Mark, Ms. McMahon wants to see you in her office." Glen said quietly before turning away.

"Glen wait."

Mark got up from the bench and grabbed Glen's hand, turning him around so that they were eye to eye. The dark lining made his eyes a more brilliant blue and his hands cupped Glen's face out of their own will. Likewise his lips sought Glen's of their own volition and before Mark could really comprehend what was going on he had Glen pushed up against the wall as he ravaged his mouth like a dieing man his last meal. Hands tangled in hair and soon Glen was participating fully, running his hands over Mark's back and pulling him close.

Fire sizzled along Mark's arms where Glens' hands softly touched and slid. His head started to spin and he pulled away, taking in huge gulps of air. Glen was leaning against the wall, his eyes shining and his breathing just as ragged as Mark's. The realization of what had just happened and Mark stepped away, straightening his gear and waiting for Glen to the same. Glen went to reach out to him but Mark moved past him and out into the hallway. He heard a soft sigh and fought with himself about turning around.

It hadn't been unpleasant. In fact Mark had never really felt something so right in his life. That thought in itself was enough to bring him up short and Glen collided with his back. Out of reflex Glen wrapped his arms around Mark's waist to keep from falling and it took everything in Mark's being not to groan at the contact. Once they disentangled themselves they headed to Brielle's office, Mark wondering what he was in for and Glen watching Mark's ass in his tights. The door was closed and Mark raised a slightly trembling hand to knock.

Glen was still behind him and placed a hand on Mark's shoulder. The gesture was comforting and Mark relaxed somewhat. There was the sound of movement on the other side and minute later Brielle opened the door and stood there glaring at Mark.

"Mr. Jacobs you may go, this doesn't concern you." She said pointedly.

"Yes ma'am." Glen nodded to her and patted Mark's shoulder before walking away.

"Mr. Calaway, come in."

She moved away from the door and walked over to her desk. Mark followed, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat in the chair across from the desk. He waited for her to get comfortable before speaking.

"May I inquire as to why you called this meeting Ms. McMahon?"

"Where were you this morning Mr. Calaway?" She demanded, flipping open a folder on her desk and leafing through the contents as she waited for an answer.

"I was in bed ma'am." He answered dutifully. It wouldn't do him any good to lie about it.

"I figured that. But why weren't you at the meeting."

"Because I was suffering from an overindulgence of stupidity."

"Mr. Calaway, what am I going to do with you?" She asked with a sigh, looking up and locking eyes with Mark. "You're walking a very fine line in the company Mr. Calaway. You could be gone before you even know it. In fact I was supposed to have let you go the minute I took control. But for some reason I think that you are better than what you're portraying yourself to be."

"Ms. McMahon...."

"Enough. I don't want to hear your half baked excuses. Tonight you're facing Angus King, he'll be winning by count out. Now get."

The dismissal was final and with a nod of his head Mark stood and left. The door shut behind him and he wandered back to locker room. Angus King, where had he heard that before. The memory was tugging at the back of his mind, but he couldn't for the life of him place who it was. He headed to catering and seen the match card posted by the buffet table. His match was near the middle of the show, and frustratingly it didn't say who Angus King was. He grabbed a bottle of water and sat at one of the tables, his mind once again free to dissect what had happened between him and Glen.

The feelings had been incredible, but it wrong. He wasn't supposed to attracted to his friend. But he couldn't stop from smiling or stifling a groan as he thought about the feel of Glen's tongue on his and his hands gliding over his skin, setting him ablaze from within. It was fire that he had to squelch if he wanted to get done what he needed to. Mark didn't need the lingering thought hanging around when he got back to his time. It would make things really awkward if he just up and sexaully assaulted Glen in the locker room. No, that would do at all. The only thing that he could think of was to get it out of his system now before he went back.

* * *

Brielle sat and stared at the door. Mark had only been in the room for a little over five minutes but she felt as if they had been locked in a tiny space for much longer. The air had been hard to breathe and she had found it extremely difficult to look anywhere but at his exposed chest. The studded collar around his throat and the matching ones on his wrists gave him a dark vibe. It made him into the type of man that mothers warned their daughters about. There was the dark promise of long nights spent pleasurably in his eyes, and thinking about it had Brielle breaking out in a cold sweat.

There was another knock on her door and she cleared her throat once before calling for whoever it was to enter. She affixed the trademark glare that she inhereted from her father and hid a smile as Justin LaRouche stood figeting in the door way. He was rather new to roster and as of yet didn't have a set gimmick. He was heavyweight, that much was certain but she was at a loss about what to do with him.

"Yes Mr. LaRouche?" She said shortly, secretly enjoying his nervous behaviour.

"Ms. McMahon, um, Orton, uh...what I mean....."

"Spit it out son, I don't have all day." She said.

"Calaway and Orton are fighting in catering."

"What?" She demanded. "Why?"

"I don't know, but so far no one on the roster has been able to pull them apart."

Brielle sighed and got to her feet, following the young man down to catering. Yelling and the sound of tables breaking could be heard from about fifteen feet away and she hurried the rest of the way. She pushed the double doors open and seen that the entire SmackDown roster was trying to keep Randy and Mark from getting back at each others throats. Paul Wight was holding Mark back and Adam and Jay were each holding an arm of Randy. Both men were practically frothing at the mouth and ugly curses were flying between them.

The scene was terrifying and oddly erotic as they strained against their human bonds and Brielle held her breath as she watched Mark's muscles ripple as he tried to get away from Wight. She hadn't been noticed so she took a few more minutes to drink in her fill of raw masculinity before letting all know that she was there.

"Gentlemen!" She hollered, no one paid any attention so she climbed up on one of the few remaining tables and cupped her hands around her mouth. "GENTLEMEN!"

The din slowly died down and soon everyone was looking up at her. Paul was still standing in front of Mark, while Adam had moved around to hold Randy's arms behind him. Mark had blood trickling down from the corner of his mouth but looked the better for the fight. Randy on the other hand was sporting the beginning of a black eye, his lip was split, and his shirt was ripped nearly in half. It wasn't hard to see who the instigator of the fight was, at least to her mind it wasn't.

"Mr. Calaway, my office. NOW!"

She climbed down off the table and headed back, her heels clicking almost angrily down the hall. She had already taken a seat behind her desk and was waiting with her hands folded for Mark. A couple of minutes later he came in, his head down as he took the seat across from her desk again.

"Mr. Calaway, what in the hell was that?"

"Nothing but a disagreement between colleagues."

"Last time I checked a disagreement didn't involve tables and nearly twenty men holding the parties apart."

"Ms. McMahon, Orton started it. I was sitting alone in catering, minding my own business when that little piss ant just walked up and punched me in the mouth."

"Is that so? If I were to call Randy in here would he tell me the same thing?"

"Of course not. This is Orton we're talking about, the lil bastard would lie to cover his ass."

"Mr. Calaway, I don't want to do this. But I'm going to suspend you until you can show me that you aren't going to fly off the handle anymore. Now go change and head back to the hotel."

"But....."

"Now Mr. Calaway."

"You listen here lil girl, I didn't start that fight. So why don't you punish Orton."

"Mr. Calaway, your track record speaks for itself. This isn't the first backstage confrontation that you've been involved in with talent. But I can guarantee you that it will be the last. Now get your gear and head back to the hotel, you're done for the night."

Mark got to his feet and Brielle watched as he stalked to the door. His body was giving off a dangerous vibe but she knew that she had to be strong. It wouldn't benefit her to come off as weak, especially around this man.

"And Mr. Calaway. Come see me tomorrow, we have a few more things to talk about."

"Yes ma'am." It was said through gritted teeth.

The door slammed behind Mark and she wondered what she was getting in to. Part of her was screaming to let him go, but the other part wanted to explore the dark promises that his eyes held. With a shiver she looked back down and started to find someone to wrestle Glen now that Mark had been sent to the hotel. It soon was put out of her mind as she once again felt herself thinking about Mark. What was that man's problem? And why did she care so much? The questions were driving her mad and in the end she just pulled Glen from the card, her mind too preoccupied with Mark to think straight.

_A/N: So I'm not really sure about the costume that Glen wore as Angus King, but I had read somewhere that it was a black shirt and black eye liner. If anyone knows please let me know. Thanks in advance. And I hoped y'all enjoyed it. Things are only looking to get more complicated from here. lol_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: And yet another wrench in the plot. lol_

AC was laying curled in the middle of the bed when the familiar sensation of warm air filling the room woke him up. He stretched as only a cat could and sat at attention as in the corner of the room the spinning air took form. Standing before him was Maeve, someone he had seen only from afar, but knew that she knew of him. Her gold-green eyes flashed but she made no move to come over to where he lay.

"You have no idea what you have done." She hissed, her voice low and laced with malice. "You have ruined the time line."

"Me? Ah did naught my lady. Twas that bluidy mon that stuck his wick in wax that wasn't made for him that ruint things." AC protested.

"What are you talking about. He was the Ian of this time and you know it."

"All Ah know is we are thinking of a way oot of this mess he made."

"Do you not understand. Things have changed. This is no longer the original curse. She no longer needs to go against the grain and seek her lover. Now she needs to win her lover away from another." Maeve's voice swelled and visions danced before AC's eyes.

_The field was as it was before, only this time it was Neala racing across the grassy expanse. The ring of trees stood silently as she stumbled upon the naked tableu. Ian was wrapped in Corianne arms, driving into her with reckless abandon. Neala dropped to her knees and stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out as completed their nude dance in unison. Blinded by tears she ran back to her home and consoled herself, making a vow to win her love back, no matter what the cost._

_It was the payment for that vow that drove her revenge against Corianne and her family and thus sealed her line's fate to forever be entwined with the McMahons._

Before AC could question further the wind picked up again and he was left sitting alone in the middle of the bed. He didn't have time to think about things, the door was thrown open and Mark strode in, dropping his ring bag off by the door and then falling backwards on to the bed. AC watched as he folded his arms over his eyes and let out an annoyed breath.

"Have a ruff night did ye?" AC asked as he padded over and nestled against Marks' shoulder.

"You could say that." He grumbled.

"Tell ole AC wot happened?"

"Shove off ya nuisance. I'm going down to the bar and get thoroughly trashed."

Without another word to AC, Mark got back up and headed down to the hotel bar and proceeded to make good on his word. Some time later he felt rather than seen someone sit down next to him. He didn't pay attention to them, his whiskey glass held much more interest for him at that time. He was pissed about being suspended, but he was also concerned about his response to Glen. It had felt natural to be in Glen's arms, to feel his lips against his. It was unnerving and he shook his head to clear the images.

"What's the matter?"

Mark finally looked over and seen the object of his thoughts. Glen was sitting on the stool wearing his shirt from earlier but had washed off the eye makeup and had pulled his hair back, exposing his neck. He looked to be wearing jeans, but Mark didn't want to focus too much on his legs and ass. His mind was already filled thoughts that shouldn't be there, he really didn't want to help them along.

"Mark? You ok?" Glen asked, his voice full of concern as he turned to face Mark fully.

"Uh? Oh, yea. Just pissed about being suspended."

"Yea, I heard about that. And the fight. What started this one?"

"Orton was running his mouth about me mistreating Irvine. Said I was beating on her in my dressing room." Mark said with a bitter laugh as he slammed back what was left of his whiskey.

"What?!?! Are you serious?"

"Yup. Barkeep, another glass!"

"You have never put a hand on her. Even though she needed it." The last sentence was said softly and Mark looked over at Glen from the corner of his eye.

He was toying with his glass, his head bowed slightly. He was silent and Mark took a swig from his glass that the bartender had set in front of him. The feelings from earlier came back full force and Mark gripped the glass until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to reach over and trail his fingers across the sensitive flesh of Glen's neck, then follow his fingers with his lips and teeth. These feelings were starting to confuse Mark, he had never felt this strong about anyone in his other time line; let alone another male.

As if Glen could sense him staring at him, he turned and locked eyes with Mark. His lips were suddenly dry as he watched Mark practically devour him with his eyes. Those electric orbs that seemed to look deep into his soul and see his inner most desires. And right now they were holding a promise that he had given up hope on ever seeing in them. Mark was staring at him as if he was committing his every feature to memory. It was now or never for him so he left it to fate and leaned close to Mark.

Their breaths mingled for a minute before their lips crashed together and Glen felt Mark pulling him over onto his lap. His large hands roamed the expanse of Glen's back and without meaning too Glen heard himself groaning into the kiss. He brought his hands up and tangled them in the silk like mane, trying to find something that would keep him anchored in the here and now.

"Hey now! Get out of here, the both of ya!" The bartender yelled as he snapped a dish towel at them.

With dual groans they pulled away and both men headed out of the bar, their hands touching each other where ever they could. At the elevator Mark pushed Glen against the wall and ravaged his mouth again, his mind blank except for the blinding need to be as close to Glen as possible. There was a faint dinging noise, and they almost missed the elevator due to them being so wrapped up with each other. However the next noise they heard broke into their moment and Glen covering his ears as Mark winced.

"I knew it! I knew you two were fucking!" Chris was standing a few feet way, her arm wrapped around Randy and was looking at them with disgust in her eyes.

"What of it?" Mark growled.

"No wonder there were nights you didn't want to do anything, you were too tired from fucking your boy toy." She spat.

"Don't you think that if you had been enough to please him, he wouldn't have had to look else where?" Glen cut in with a sly grin as he looped his arm around Mark's waist and nipped at his shoulder lightly.

"WHAT?!?!?!" Chris screeched.

The doors were slowly closing and Glen slipped in, pulling Mark behind him and hitting the close door button, leaving Chris and Randy staring at the silver doors slack jawed.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Souless I bow down to your knowledge of Time Travel and it's Paradoxes. I confess to know nothing of them so I'm rather flying at the seat of my pants. lol But once again another update for this story, and I hope that y'all enjoy it as much as you have to past two. Much love to my readers._

Blearily Mark cracked one eye open, his head was pounding and he felt as if there was a weight sitting in the middle of his chest. He looked down and seen the bushy head of hair laying there and it took him a minute to register what had happened. The hair moved and a minute later he was staring into Glen's eyes. His heart started a rapid dance against his ribs and wondered just what in the hell he had done last night.

"Hey." Glen's voice was cautious but he made no move to get off of him.

"Hey yerself."

"Are you regretting last night?" His lips twisted into a frown and Mark felt his own turn down in response.

"Depends, what did I do last night?"

"Nothing you haven't done before." Glen's grin was cheeky and Mark's eyes widened in comprehension.

Glen rolled over and got out of bed, pressing his hand to the middle of his back and groaning softly. He started towards the bathroom and Mark furrowed his brow in thought.

"Glen, did I hurt you last night?" He didn't know why but it bothered him.

"No, Mark you passed out after falling down on the bed." His voice was distorted by the echo of the bathroom, but it didn't sound reassuring.

Mark pushed himself out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, wanting to know what had happened. If he had done anything to hurt Glen during the night, he'd never forgive himself. Glen was standing, gloriously devoid of clothing, in front of the tub. He was slightly bent over as he tested the water temperature and Mark forced himself to look elsewhere. The feelings that Glen stirred in him were still too new for him to completely be comfortable with, yet he was finding that the stronger they where the easier it was for him to shut down and let his body take over. Glen straightened up and Mark grabbed his waist and pulled him close, resting his chin on Glen's shoulder and whispering in his ear.

"Did I hurt you last night?" He asked again, grinning as Glen shuddered.

"N-no. You've never hurt me. I just stiffened up overnight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Besides we didn't do anything, you dropped the minute you hit the bed. I told you that. Why are you so worried about it?"

"Are you questioning me?" Mark purred, nipping at his earlobe.

"N-never."

"Good." Mark pulled away and slapped Glen's ass before heading back to bed.

He settled down on the bed, his hands crossed behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. The tv remote was laying on the nightstand near his side so he reached over and grabbed it, flipping the tv on and channel surfed while Glen showered. His mind wasn't really on the tv, it was racing between the problem with the curse and the sudden unwanted need to stay here in this time line. On one hand he wanted to go back and be 'The Undertaker' to take up the mantel of power that he had amassed during his career. But on the other, it felt nice not to be under the constant pressure of being the 'role model' of the backstage, and not having to uphold 'The Streak'.

Plus there was his weird attraction to Glen in this time line. It was different but he had never felt so at ease, and if the Glen in this time line was like the Glen in his time line; then he'd never have to worry about him straying. The water stopped and Glen walked back into the room with a towel around his waist and his hair hanging wetly against his shoulders and pecs. Mark's eyes strayed down to the loosely tucked towel and he pondered what it would be like to actually take Glen. Granted the him that existed before him must have done it numerous times, so he faltered a bit about doing it. His train of thought slammed to stop as a thought presented himself.

If he was here, then who was in his timeline? Did his time line even exist. It couldn't. It wasn't feasable. Was it? His eyebrows drew together in thought and he felt the bed dip down under Glen's weight.

"Mark? You alright?"

"Hmmm. Oh....yeah." He forced a smile and looked up into Glen's eyes, hating the concerned look in them. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"You're a Sci-Fi freak.....right?" He asked, hoping that this Glen was the mirror reflection of his Glen.

"You should know this by now. Why?"

"What if.....in a movie there was this curse. And to break this curse the male lead had to get the female lead to not only love him but to sleep with him to end the curse. But they slept together before falling in love. The result was that it messed something up. The male lead was then tossed into a different time line, where everything was almost the same but with glaring differences. What would happen to the duplicate male lead that was in the time line originally before the 'real' male lead crashed it?"

"What were you watching to give you that profound thought?" Glen sat down on the edge of the bed and drew his eyebrows together as he thought it over.

"Just something that I was flipping past while you took your shower."

"Well, if I was going on what you propose, then I would have to say that there really was no duplicate time line. The curse, for whatever reason rewrote history, therefore twisting the fate of the male lead. He would just act as if waking up from a dream, it would be different but soon enough he'd start to change until he no longer remembered the original time line. Of course that's what I would assume, and we all know what they say about assuming some thing. But this movie or whatever it was that you were watching probably depends on the 'vision' of the director." Glen shrugged and got back to his feet, heading over to his bag.

Mark thought over Glen's answer, it seemed to make sense. It explained how he felt feelings that he had never had before, but at the same time he didn't want to forget everything that had happened to him. He had had some really good times in his time line. Glen ambled back over to the bed and dropped back down, pulling Mark over and holding him close. The woodsy smell of his shower gel pushed Mark's thoughts to the back of his mind and he found himself watching a stray droplet of water trickle down his neck.

"Didn't you have a meeting with Ms. McMahon today?" Glen asked as he pulled away to look at Mark.

"Yea, how'd you know?"

"You were mumbling about having to meet with the 'bitch' in your sleep."

"Oh." Mark felt a blush creep up his neck and he moved to get out of bed.

"Or...you could stay here for some _exercise_."

Glen's wolfish grin had Mark seriously thinking it over and he had to fight with himself over getting out of bed. With a suffering sigh he relinquished the bed and headed into the bathroom to freshen up some. He smelled like a bar, but it wasn't anything serious. Glen wandered in and stood behind him as he splashed some water on his face. When he stood back up he looked at the reflection in the mirror and a smile stretched his lips. Glen was wearing a smile as well and he dropped a kiss on the back of Mark's neck.

"So, you wanna stay?" He asked, turning Mark around and backing him up against the sink.

"Nah. I don't want to make her even madder at me."

Glen made some noise in the back of his throat and stepped back, his arms crossed over his chest and small pout on his face. Mark laughed and tugged on a lock of hair playfully.

"Make it up to you later?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Well then I guess I can let you leave......for now."

Mark laughed again and moved to step around Glen, but was stopped short when Glen pulled him close and kissed him hard. Mark's head was spinning when Glen pulled back and he idly wondered if his gasping for air was normal. It must have been because Glen then pushed towards the door with a growled, "I'll be waiting."

* * *

Brielle was enjoying her breakfast when there was a knock on her door. She grumbled a bit, thinking that it was either Shane or Stephanie coming to annoy her so she wrenched the door open with a snarl.

"What?"

"I'm sorry Ms. McMahon, did I interrupt something?"

She gripped the neck of her bathrobe tight and looked up at Mark. He was wearing the same clothes that he had been wearing the night before when she seen him leave and he smelled alittle like a stale ashtray. But oddly enough for him it worked, it made him seem like that breed of man that you only read about in romance novels. His eyes were a little bleary, as if he had just woken up and she detected the slightest hint of liquor on his breath when he spoke.

"You wanted to see me today Ms. McMahon?" He prompted, interupting her thoughts.

"Oh yes. I did. Come in please."

She moved to the side and motioned over to the table where a thick manila envelope sat in the middle. He moved quickly and took a seat that faced the door, leaving her one that either put her back to the door or one that was too close for propriety. She steeled her nerves and took the one that had her back to the door and pulled the envelope over to her. With a slight flick of her wrist it lay open and she placed her folded hands atop the first page.

"Mr. Calaway I told you last night that you were walking a fine line in the WWF."

"Yes ma'am you did." Mark concurred, and she was glad that he seemed to cooperative, from what she had heard he could be a handful.

"Well starting today, you are to attend anger management classes...."

"I told you that Orton started that fight." Mark protested loudly.

"This has nothing to do with last night. I did some asking around and everyone I talked to said the same thing you did. This is in regards to other incidents. The company will be funding the classes, and the counselor will be traveling with us. Apparently there are a few others that suffer from the same thing."

"Well what do you expect? We're in a violent industry. We reward our violence with gold. We celebrate it. The crowds call for blood. Of course a bunch of us have anger issues. But there are some that have no idea about how to handle it."

"Be that as it may, you will be doing the classes for the duration of a month. If there is no visible change in attitude or behaviour I will have to let you go." She said, surprised that he had put together as sound a defense as he had. "But you are also to under go Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. Your drinking is interfering with your in ring performance here lately and I will not tolerate it."

"Yes ma'am." His jaw was clenched and she had the feeling that she had pushed him enough for one day, but she had more to cover with him before she let him go.

"As of right now the only thing that has been in your favor is that you haven't violated the wellness policy in regards to narcotics or steroids. This is a big plus in your favor, but there have been rumblings in the locker room that you have been injecting your partner in crime with them. Now since Mr. Jacobs has been tested and found clean we can not refute those claims or cement them. So I'm informing you that you two best keep your noses clean."

"Is that all Ms. McMahon?"

"No."

"What else can there be?" He grumbled, his hands clenching and clenching on the table in front of him.

"Your interaction with fans leaves alot to be desired. As you know this is no longer the 80's where you have to live your gimmick outside of the ring. The internet killed the mystique of it all. Try to at least be little civil to them. They are the ones that pay to you step in to that ring. When you're sober enough to be in it."

She sat back, sure that he was going to explode and she had slight twinge of fear as he stood up and placed both hands on the table. He leaned forwards to that he was only a few inches away from her, his breath fanned her face and she realized that the liquor only added to blatant manliness that enshrouded them. He stayed silent and she swallowed hard under his scrutiny.

"Ms. McMahon. I can assure you that I will follow yer demands." He growled. "But you had best believed that the next yayhoo that decides that he's going to test me is going to be on his back looking up at the lights. So you better call in all yer little 'superstars' and inform of that. I will not be the only one that has to adhere this damned rule."

"Mr. Calaway, are you telling me how to run my Brand?"

"No ma'am. I'm merely _suggesting_ that you do that.....if you want to keep yer stars healthy." He straightened up and headed over to the door.

"Is that a threat?" She turned and stared at him, astounded at the audacity of him

"No ma'am. It's a damned guarantee." He growled before slamming the door open and then slamming it shut behind him.

Brielle sat stiffly on her chair. He had blown up, just like she had expected. But the coolness that he had looked at her left her confused. Granted she knew that she wasn't as beautiful as her sister, but she did turn heads. And for him to ignore the fact that she was wearing a bath towel, that she just noticed had fallen open, was preposterous. That small slight ruffled her feathers more than it should have and she found herself wanting to get dressed and track him down, only if to demand why she had no effect on him. Although why it mattered to her escaped her at the moment.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: I swear that one of these days I'll be able to write something that has no sex in it at all. And that'll probably be the day I die. rofl. Anyways, Update! and I hope y'all enjoy!_

Glen was laying on the bed watching tv passively when Mark slammed into the room and then slammed into the bathroom. He was still wearing the clothes he left in so Glen wondered why he came here instead of going to his room. Intrigued he got up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom and put his ear to the door.

"You might as well come in Glen." Mark growled from the other side.

With a grin on his face Glen opened the door and leaned against the door jam as he watched Mark pace the tiny space. He ran his hands through his short hair and growled as he aimed a kick at the tub. Predictably the tub didn't give and Mark lost that fight. He howled and started to hop around on one foot. Glen snickered, no matter how many times he seen this happen it still struck him as funny. Mark stopped his hopping and glared over at him, his eyes flashing.

"You think this is funny?" He said as he started to step towards Glen.

"Of course. How many times are you going to lose a fight to the bathtub before you realize that it's _always _going to win?" He said, a smirk on his face as he straightened up.

"I know a fight I can win." By then they were face to face and Glen swallowed as he locked eyes with Mark.

"Oh really?"

"Yes really."

"Prove it." Glen whispered.

Mark growled and grabbed Glen by the waist and crashed their bodies together as he did the same with their lips. His tongue thrust past Glen's lips and plundered his mouth, taking what he wanted. He felt Glen stiffen, in more ways than one, then give in as he ravaged his mouth. Mark was running on nothing but instinct by that point and he grabbed a hand full of Glen's hair and pulled his head back, breaking the kiss and making him groan. Glen's eyes were dark and his lips already swollen. His breathing was ragged and Mark watched as the pulse on his neck jumped erratically. With a dark grin that Glen didn't see he latched onto the soft skin and drug his teeth across the jumping pulse, drawing a hiss and a moan from Glen.

The reaction had him twitching painfully in his pants, but the sounds that he was pulling from the younger man was driving him wild in ways that he never thought was possible. He kept worrying the pulse point, biting, licking and dragging his teeth across it alternately. He felt Glen starting to tremble and expertly moved them over to the bed. Soon they were laid out and Mark was staring down at Glen with naked lust and the tiniest amount of confusion. He had a rough idea about what happened next, but had no idea about how to go about it. Taking advantage of Mark's hesitation Glen flipped them over and started to return the favor of teasing.

As Glen attacked Mark's neck he felt himself get harder than he ever imagined possible. He never had any idea that just the feel of teeth on the jumping vein could feel so exceptionally wonderful that he could cream himself without the benefit of any other touch to his body. The shirt that he had worn the night before and subsequently worn to see Brielle was a button up and he watched transfixed as Glen slipped the buttons from their holes with his teeth. His hair, which had been in a pony tail before Mark got a hold of it was laying in waves around his shoulders and tickled the sensitive skin of his abdomen as his head dipped lower.

"Can I?" Glen asked as he nuzzled against the hardness that Mark's pants restrained.

"Oh god yes." He hissed as Glen slid the zipper down with his teeth.

He arched up into the wetness of Glen's mouth as it finally closed around him and he threaded his hands into Glen's hair, groaning as it slipped through his fingers like silk. He had to hand it to Glen, his mouth was pure sin and Mark knew that he was seconds away from flooding Glen's mouth and throat. He used his hold that he had on Glen's hair to pull him away. His mouth released his member with a soft 'pop' and Glen licked his lips as he stared up into Mark's eyes. Without being told he moved over and lay face down on the bed, moaning as his restrained erection buried itself into mattress.

"Um, Glen. Aren't you supposed to be naked too?' Mark asked as he bit his lip to keep to from moaning as Glen wiggled his ass slightly.

"It's never stopped you before." He moaned. "Please Mark, hurry."

With trembling fingers Mark reached under Glen and started to fumbled with the button and fly on his jeans. The feel of the denim against his naked erection was pushing him over the edge quickly and he growled as Glen continued to buck under him.

"If you don't hold still Glen." He threatened.

With what sounded like a deep growl Glen flipped himself over and all but ripped his pants off. Mark jumped back slightly, not sure if this was normal for Glen or not. The look in Glen's eyes excited him and Mark licked his lips as Glen's hard length bobbed in front of him, precum oozing from the head steadily. Glen went to roll back onto his stomach but Mark stopped him with a hand on his abdomen.

"I wanna taste you." He breathed, surprising the both of them.

"Wha-" Glen's question ended on a moan as Mark tentatively run his tongue over the head, cleaning it of the creamy substance.

It was an unexpected sensation that washed over Mark as he took the head into his mouth. The taste wasn't all that bad and he found that he liked the velvet on steel feeling of Glen's manhood as slipped in and out of his mouth. He felt Glen's hands on his shoulders and sighed around his mouthful as Glen arched up, sending his cock further into Mark's mouth than he had it. Glen's moans filled the room and he looked up at him as he continued to work Glen over and was surprised to see the slightly amazed look on Glen's face.

"Mark..." Glen said haltingly as he pulled Mark away.

"What?" Mark's voice was just as breathy and his eyes widened as Glen turned him over onto his stomach and covered him with his bulk. "Glen? What are you doin...."

Glen bit down on Mark's neck and slowly worked himself into Mark's tight passage. His cock was still wet with the mixture of Mark's saliva and his own precum so it wasn't as uncomfortable as it could have been, but Mark stilled at the sudden intrusion. He had never had anything inside of him before so he was at a loss as of what to do. Even though Glen was perfectly still he could feel him throbbing inside and moaned as Glen pulled slowly and then rocked back against him. With every slow stroke Glen was hitting his sweet spot and soon Mark was writhing beneath Glen as he thrust in and out wildly. With twin howls they came, Glen filling Mark to the point of overflow and Mark pressing down into the mattress and releasing a river of his own essence.

Glen pulled out and got up from the bed quickly, and then fell to his knees with a choked sob. His head was hung and his hair covered his face. Mark turned and looked at him, wondering what was going on now.

"W-what's wrong?" Mark asked, his voice still wobbily from the thorough pounding and explosive orgasm.

"I-I'm sorry Mark. I didn't mean to over step my boundaries." He said grabbing Mark's hand. "Please don't leave."

"Why would I do that?" Mark pushed himself into a sitting position and wrinkled his nose at the mess that coated his hips, thighs and stomach.

"I know you're the Alpha. I'm sorry. Please don't leave. I'll take any punishment you hand me. Just please don't leave." Glen continued to babble as though he hadn't heard what Mark had said.

He looked so scared that Mark couldn't help himself. He moved over to the edge and pressed his lips to Glen's to stop the flood of words. He cupped Glen's cheek and stroked it lovingly with the pad of his thumb as he pulled away.

"I'm not going to leave. I promise." He said softly. "And I'm not going to punish you."

Glen palmed the tears from his eyes and went to stand. Mark grinned and pulled him down onto his lap, covering his neck and face with kisses as his hands slid up and down his sides. Glen shivered and lost himself into the sensations as Mark idly wondered what the hell he had started now.

* * *

"Elle? What's the matter?" Shane asked as he looked up and seen that Brielle was staring off into space again.

She had been doing that since he came and picked her up from lunch. He would never admit it to Stephanie, but Brielle was his favorite sister. She was calm and had a relatively good head on her shoulders. At least she didn't go and get involved with the talent on a regular basis. He frowned as he thought about Stephanie's upcoming marriage to Dave Bautista. Just the thought of Bautista being connected to his family in more ways than employment made him shudder.

"Nothing Shane. Just thinking about what to with Calaway." She said as she pushed her salad around with her fork.

"What's the caveman done now?"

"Nothing much. There was a physical altercation between him and Orton last night, and then this morning I raked him over the coals."

"Ooohh, how'd he take that?" Shane asked with a slight shiver. He wasn't afraid of many men but Mark Calaway was number one on his list.

"Naturally he blew up about it, then he left, slamming the doors after him."

"Doors? What doors?"

"I told him last night to meet with me in my room this morning." She said as she took a sip of water.

"You invited him to your room? Was there anyone else there with you?" Shane asked with a slight hysterical edge to his voice.

"No. Just me."

"Brielle?!?" Shane cried.

"What? It's not like he did anything. He didn't even notice that my bathrobe was practically wide open." She grumbled as she pushed some lettuce around her plate.

"WHAT!?!?!?! Calaway.....you....bathrobe???" Shane was stuttering now and turning an unhealthy shade of maroon.

His eyes were wide and Brielle was starting to worry about his health. Without thinking twice she grabbed her glass and flung the ice water on him. He sputtered and focused on Brielle's face.

"Elle." He said softly.

"Yea Shanny?"

"I'd run if I were you." He said as he surged to his feet and sprinted around to her side of the table.

Brielle yelped and tried to dodge Shane but they both ended up on the floor laughing as Shane tickled her relentlessly. Her shrieks filled the room and soon the two of them were asked to leave. They playfully shoved each other as they left the room, Brielle's agitation at Mark and Shane's aggravation at Stephanie momentarily forgotten.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Alright, so I've noticed that this has wandered away from the original story starter, and the ending that I have planned don't mesh with it either. So I'm just going to say this no longer is the story it was meant to be, but I hope that y'all are happy with the ending when it comes. But I will take another stab at the starter, probably end up doing a oneshot with it. Anyways, on with the story and as always, Enjoy!_

AC had wandered down to the main lobby during the night while he hunted for something to eat. Mark had spent the entire day out and he was worried that Mark had forgotten about him. He was stalking a nice plump mouse when he heard the click of heels on tile and he pulled his head up quickly to see what was going on. He stopped in mid pounce when he seen Brielle striding across the lobby. Her face was schooled in a hard scowl and he wondered what had aggravated her.

"Yes I need the room number for Mr. Calaway." She demanded of the young kid behind the desk.

"But Ma'am, we can't give that type of information out." He replied with a sad shake of his head.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" She hollered as she slammed her fist down on the counter.

"Ma'am.."

"I am Brielle Nicole McMahon and I demand the room number of Mark Calaway."

"Ms. McMahon? I'm so sorry Ma'am….just one moment." The poor boy scrambled over the computer and soon the frantic sound of key clacking filled the room.

AC padded over and sat down at her feet, staring up at her. With a purr he rubbed against her leg and mewed pitifully when she looked down at him. He seen her eyes soften and licked at her fingers when she bent down to pet him. Mark was proving difficult, so AC decided to work on the problem from the other side. In fact he had the sudden idea on what to do.

"_Ah'll jest let her hold me until I see the bloody mon and then wiggle to get away. She follow me until I reach him and then when I rub again him she'll ken that he's a gentlemon and from there the attraction will jest take off_." He thought as he continued to work his kitty magic on her.

As he figured she scooped him up and after finally getting Mark's room number headed up to his room. All the way there AC rubbed against her neck and face and purred when she scratched behind his ears. He was laying it on thick and if he could have he would have smiled when she started to talk in the baby talk to him. When they finally reached Mark's door she schooled her face again and knocked briskly.

At first AC was worried that Mark wasn't there, but after another round of pounding the door opened and Mark was in the doorway in nothing but a towel. Water was dripping from his spiky hair and trickling down his chest. Without hesitation AC wiggled until Brielle dropped him and then darted over and rubbed himself against Mark's ankles. Meowing loudly he looked up and narrowed his eyes at Mark, trying to convey a message and hoping that it got across.

Brielle's breath caught in her throat and she felt a blush creeping up her neck as her eyes traveled Mark's naked chest. She suddenly forgot what she had come for and started to stammer.

"Mr……Mr……Calaway." She winced as he smirked and leaned against the doorjamb, flicking his gaze from her feet to her face and back again.

"Yes Ma'am?" He drawled.

"Ummm….Nevermind." Brielle said as she backed away.

She turned around and headed post haste back towards the elevator. Mark's laughter floated after her and her face burned completely as she pressed the buttons harder than she needed too. Once she was safely inside the car she slid down the wall and buried her face in her hands.

"How could I do that?" She sighed, "How could I be so weak?"

The doors slid open a moment later and she headed down to her room, still raking herself over the coals for what she deemed a serious transgression. To her that small display undermined all her authority and she shuddered when she thought about what her father would have said if he had seen it. She let herself into her room and dropped down on the bed, squeezing her eyes shut to block out the thoughts.

* * *

Mark stepped back into his room and shut the door, chuckling as he whipped the towel off and tossed it into a corner. He headed over to his bag and rummaged through it, humming to himself as he did so.

"Wot in the bloody hell was that?" AC demanded as he jumped into the duffel bag, stopping Mark's progress.

"I don't know what you mean." Mark picked up AC by the scruff of the neck and dropped him on the floor.

"Ye had the chance to do some wooing and ye just laughed at the poor lass, scaring her off." AC swiped at Mark's bare leg, barely grazing the skin.

"Listen here you damned nuisance. In case you have forgotten, we're in a different time line than what I was used to. I'm trying to gather information so that I don't stick out like a sore thumb."

"And jest wot have ye gathered?"

"Well, according to Glen and from what I can ascertain from the others, I'm a real ass. I fight, drink too much, smooze and womanize." Mark pulled on his boxers followed by a pair of jeans. "In short I'm not the type of man that Brielle needs to tangle herself in."

"Wot does that mean?"

"She's a McMahon. They don't slum it."

"Sae?"

"Never mind cat. Just leave everything up to me."


	19. Chapter 19

Mark dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and a plain t-shirt. He ran his hand through his hair before slipping into his boots and heading out. He smiled as Brielle's face flashed before his eyes; her eyes wide and her mouth open in a little 'o'. He had had no doubt that she had come to read him the riot act, but in the end it worked in his favor. He was standing by the elevator waiting for the doors to open when he felt someone join him.

"Mark…."

He turned and seen Chris standing there looking up at him through her eyelashes. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top, and Mark flicked his eyes from her head to her feet. She noticed and bit her lip in an attempt to look sexy. Mark stifled a snort and turned his attention back to the doors, something that didn't sit well with her. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm, frowning when he shook her off.

"What the hell is your problem?" She demanded as she moved so that she was between him and the doors. "Is Glen's ass so good that it twisted your brain?"

"Must be." Mark said darkly as he stared down at her.

She looked at him shocked, her mouth moving wordlessly. He grinned and pushed past her when the doors opened. However the grin disappeared when squeezed in just as the doors were closing. With a growl he pressed the button for Brielle's floor, hoping that she wasn't going the same way. With a simper she leaned against him and pressed the button for the lobby. She stayed pressed against him and as gently as he could he pushed her away.

"What's the matter Marky?" She cooed.

"I don't want the smell of whore on me when I go talk to Ms. McMahon."

Chris's mouth dropped open and she sputtered indignantly as Mark laughed. The doors whooshed open a minute later and Mark left her in the elevator, grinning as the doors shut behind him. They didn't shut quick enough though, Mark heard her frustrated screech from halfway down the hall. He reached into his jeans and pulled out a scrap of paper that had Brielle's room number on it and chuckled to himself as he imagined her face when she seen him at the door.

With in moments he was standing outside her door, smoothing his shirt and checking his breath before knocking on her door. He waited for a couple minutes before knocking again. Mark let out an annoyed breath and pressed his ear to the door, pulling back when he heard grumbling coming from the other side. The door was yanked open a minute later, Brielle scowling as she looked out.

"What do you wa---" She stopped in mid rant when she seen Mark standing there.

"Ms. McMahon I wanted to report to you before heading out to meet with the head doctor you lined up for me." He said with a smile.

Brielle just stood there for moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest. She hadn't even heard what he had said, not completely anyways. She frowned as she forced her eyes away from his chest and up to his face. He was grinning down at her and she felt her face blush red momentarily.

"Is that ok with you Ms. McMahon?" He asked, his face radiating innocence.

"I'm sorry, would you care to run that by me again." Her blush deepened and she fought the urge to slam the door and hide under her covers.

"I wanted to know if you wanted me to stop by after the meeting and give you a run down of what happened."

"Urm…no. Doctor Pam will do that for me." She said.

"Fine. Good day Ms. McMahon."

Mark bowed slightly and moved away from the door, smiling as he heard the soft sound of a sigh behind him.

"Seems like this is going to be easier than I though." He mumbled as he headed towards the elevator.

* * *

"How dare that damned oaf call me a whore!" Chris screeched as she tossed back an appletini.

Randy was sitting across from her, watching as she became more inebriated. She continued her rant and he rolled his eyes. If she wasn't so damned good in bed he would have left her by now. She took a deep breath and scooted over so that she was leaning up against Randy, her breath warm and wet in his ear.

"Randy….will you do something for me?" She purred as she ran her hand up his thigh.

"What?" He swallowed hard as she moved her hand lightly over his crotch.

"Teach Mark a lesson." She licked his ear lobe and Randy felt all common sense fly out the window.

"Sure. I'll teach him anything you want me too."

"Good boy. You're so good to me. How about we go back to the room and I show you how _bad _I can be."

They vacated their booth quickly, Randy slapping a 100 dollar bill down on the table before they left. In their haste neither seen Glen sitting at the booth behind them. He had heard every word and growled as got to his feet.

"So the bitch wants to play dirty? I can play dirty." Glen left money on his table as well as a healthy tip. "No one messes with Mark. No one."

With a scowl on his face he stormed from the dinning area, intent on finding Mark and telling him everything that he had heard. After all, if both of them came up with a counterattack it would prove to be more devastating than just him plotting alone. He pulled out his phone and left a message on Mark's phone. As he hung up he watched as one of the bellhops chased a black cat through the lobby with a broom. With a slight chuckle he headed to his room, his mind already coming up with a rough draft of the plan.


	20. Chapter 20

From the name Dr. Pam, Mark had assumed that the head shrink was a female. Instead the good doctor was a balding, overweight, middle aged man. And one that was going to get a fist planted between his eyes if he didn't let up on the sarcasm. Dr. Pam cleared his throat and looked up over the rim of his glasses at Mark, something else that Mark found incredibly annoying.

"So Mr. Calway."

"That's Calaway…..sir." Mark corrected him for the umpteenth time.

"Right…._Calaway._ Why is it that you feel the need to drink? Was your father an alcoholic? Or your mother maybe?"

"No." Mark said through gritted teeth. "The reason I drink is a simple one."

"And that is?" Dr. Pam prompted.

"Because everyone around me are complete and utter morons. To be able to put with them, I have to lower myself down to their mental state. The easiest way to do that is to drink."

"My son there are better ways to deal with the stress of idiotic co-workers."

"Then do enlighten me. For my next step will be to kill them off, one by one." Mark growled.

The doctor tsked and made a note of what Mark said in his notebook. Mark rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and itched to answer it, but knew that it would be recorded in that notebook. Finally it stopped, but then it vibrated once more to signal that the caller had left a message. The doctor cleared his throat and Mark narrowed his eyes at the man, picturing him rolling down a large hill in a garbage can.

"Well that's all the time we have for tonight. Now it says here that Ms. McMahon wants this to be a normal occurrence for the next month or so until I deem you mentally fit. After this week I'll be traveling with the company so you won't have to travel to see me. So I'll see you same time, same day next week." Dr. Pam started to write, clearly dismissing Mark.

Stiffly Mark rose from the chair and let himself out, fighting the urge to put his fist through the wall next to him. He stood still with his eyes closed for a couple minutes until he felt himself under control again. He nodded to the receptionist on the way out and dug in his pocket for his phone. He smiled when he seen that the missed call was from Glen. As he listened to the message however, his smile slipped off his face and his free hand tightened back into a fist.

"That conniving little bitch." He growled as he headed out to his rental.

He barely stayed within the speed limit as he raced towards the hotel. His mind was filled with ideas about how to handle the situation, and each of them ended the same way. With him in jail for murder. Finally he pulled into the parking lot, his car skidding to a halt as he slammed it into park. His anger carried him through the lobby and up the stairs to Glen's floor. He hammered on the door, growling when no one answered right away. Finally Glen got to the door and pulled it open, rubbing his eyes as he yawned.

"Oh…you're back." He smiled and moved aside, watching semi amused as Mark paced the room.

"How can you be so fucking calm about this?" Mark demanded as he came to a stop in front of Glen.

"Oh I'm pissed, but I'm enjoying watching the tiger pace the cage."

"Is that so?" Mark questioned, stepping up and grabbing Glen by the hair and tipping his head back. "Then you'll enjoy watching the tiger kill it's prey." He growled as he let Glen go and resuming his pacing. "Did they say what they were going to do?"

"No, she just asked Randy to 'teach you a lesson'. Psh, as if that little peon could anything." Glen said, his eyes smoldering as he watched Mark.

"Physically no. But all it takes in one well placed rumor and I'm gone faster than the Gobbledy Gooker in a battle royal."

"So we take Randy out in the ring. I'm sure you're ok with some shoot fighting. We injure him and put him out, we don't have to worry about him."

"I'm not worried about him. She's the master mind behind this. We have to find a way to take her down."

"I could strangle her in her sleep." Glen grumbled.

Mark stopped pacing and looked over to where Glen was sulking. His foul mood dissipated and he strode over and pulled Glen close, smirking as he kissed him lightly. Glen's mouth opened and Mark thrust his tongue into the waiting warmth. Soon Glen was whimpering and pressing himself as close as he could to Mark, his hands gripping Mark's biceps tightly. When Mark pulled away Glen's eyes were cloudy and his breathing was shallow. He licked his lips and tried to focus, causing Mark to chuckle.

"There, feel better?"

Glen nodded, his ability to speak having deserted him during the kiss. Mark pulled him back in for another gentle peck before moving away and resuming his pacing. His mind was splintered into a million different pieces and there was only one way that he could see them fitting back together again. Of course that meant hurting one person he never thought he'd come to care for. With a sigh he grabbed Glen's wrist and led him over to the bed, pushing him down and settling down on top, mentally groaning as Glen's eyes darkened and his lips curve into a smile.

"Glen I have a plan." He started.

"And that is?" Glen prompted as he nipped at Mark's neck.

"You're not going to like this. But it's the only way I can see out of this."

"What?" Glen's eyes lost their gleaming lust and his lips turned down into a frown.

"I have to seduce Brielle McMahon." He stated, screwing his eyes shut in anticipation of Glen's out burst.

"That's it?" Glen's laughter had him staring down at Glen in awe.

"You're not mad?"

"No."

"You do know that I'm going to have to sleep with her. Right?"

"Of course."

"And this is ok with you?" Glen's off handed comments were riling Mark back up. Maybe he had read too much into his and Glen's liaison.

"Mark," Glen reached up and cupped Mark's face, planting a soft kiss on his lips before speaking again. "If it means getting that damned harlot out of our life then I'm all for it. Besides, it's not like you're talking about getting together with McCool. Atleast with Ms. McMahon we can pretty much guarantee that she's clean." Mark looked at him confused and Glen laughed before explaining further. "What I mean, is that I'm sure that not many have been where you're proposing to go. So I don't have to worry about you bringing something back to me."

"So you're really ok with sharing me?" Mark asked skeptically.

"Of course. By sleeping with you while you're sleeping with Ms. McMahon, I'm sleeping with her too." Glen smiled crookedly, running his hands down Mark's chest.

Mark growled and reached down to capture Glen's lips again, hoping in the back of his mind that he was going to be able to pull it off.


	21. Chapter 21

After putting Glen at ease, they headed down to eat. Both of their stomachs were growling and they shared smiles as they walked through the lobby. They were seated towards the back of the in hotel restaurant and Glen listened silently as Mark told him about his meeting with the shrink. Mark reached across the table and took Glen's hand lightly, rubbing his thumb across the back as he talked. The simple action calmed his nerves, even allowed him to laugh along with Glen as he made some off handed remark about Dr. Pam.

Their good time wasn't destined to be however. Just minutes before their food arrived Chris and Randy came sauntering up to the table, Chris wearing a large smirk while Randy shifted nervously from foot to foot. With an exasperated sigh Mark looked up and fought to keep calm.

"Can I help you?" He asked, shooting for pleasant but coming off as annoyed.

"Just wanted to wish you luck on Raw." She said, her smirk getting wider.

"Why?" Glen asked, frowning as he looked between the two.

"Didn't you two hear?" She waited as both men shook their head in denial. "No I guess you wouldn't, what with the both you too busy pounding each other's asses all the time. Anyways," She waved off Mark's growl and continued, her smirk turning in a devious smile. "Marky, you've been picked to represent Smack Down in an interpromotional match. Loser moves to the winner's brand."

"Ok. That's no problem. I'm one of the best here on Smack Down." Mark said, rolling his eyes.

"Riiiiggghhhttt. Anyways, your opponent is none other than Lee." She cackled as her eyes lit up. "That's right Marky, you're facing the Undertaker."

"And how do you know all this?' Glen asked, clenching his teeth in anger

"We know people, don't we Randy?" She purred as she pressed up against him.

He nodded, unable to voice anything with the two of them glaring at him. Chris gave a shrill sounding laugh and pulled Randy away, leaving Mark and Glen to fume silently. Their food was set down moments later, but neither were in the mood to eat any more.

"Mark?"

"Yea?"

"You're going to win, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

Glen nodded and pushed away from the table, leaving Mark sitting there on his own. Mark signaled to the waiter and asked for boxes and the check. Once everything was taken care of he headed back to Glen's room, stopping only to save AC from being walloped with a broom by one of the maids. He dropped the food and AC off then headed back to Brielle's room, intending on putting his plan into action.

On his way to Brielle's room he seen Adam and Jay standing around in the hallway looking like they were up to no good. His lips pulled back into a feral smile as a thought struck him. The two young men jumped as he approached, their eyes darting around wildly as they looked for an escape root. He loomed over them, using his size in his advantage.

"You two wanna cause some trouble?" He asked, his voice dropping so that they wouldn't be over heard.

"Us? Cause trouble?" Jay squeaked out. "We don't cause trouble."

"That's right. We're model examples of how a super star should act." Adam said, his face twitching as Mark glared at him.

"Right. So I guess that y'all don't want to go and make Randy and Chris's lives hell. Your loss." Mark shrugged his shoulders and walked away, mentally counting down.

"Now you never said anything about it being Randy and Chris." Adam said, jogging to catch up to Mark.

"Yea. I owe Randy a sound ass beating for his cheap shots in the ring." Jay said with a frown.

"Not to mention I have to get back at Chris for giving me crabs." Adam quipped.

"I didn't need to know that Adam." Mark said with a grimace.

"Yea, man. There are some things that you just shouldn't share." Jay echoed Marks sentiment and look.

"We'll take care of this."

Both men shared a diabolical look before disappearing down the hallway. Mark shook his head, knowing that whatever those came up with was going to be more entertaining than Glen trying to sing Karaoke. Mark was at Brielle's door mere minutes later, knocking loudly. The door wrenched open, Brielle standing there with her eye's blazing at the interruption of her meeting with Shane and Stephanie. They stood staring at each other; eye's flicking from head to foot taking in what the other was wearing.

"Can I help you Mr. Calaway?" She asked, her voice low as she stepped out into the hallway and closed her door.

"Yes Ma'am. I was told that there's a match coming up where I'm fighting against Lee."

"Yes sir, that match has been made."

"Why me? If I may be so bold as to ask?"

"Because Mark, for all your faults, you're a master of the ring. Lee likes to play mind games; he's not too much on the actual wrestling aspect. You're our best bet to take him down."

"But if he looses, which he will. That brings him over to our brand. And if he's not that good, then why do you want him?"

"Simple, he's my sister's number one guy. If she loses him, her roster is nothing but second tier talent that has no idea what to do. That makes us stronger, better than her."

Mark nodded his head and started to leave, only to stop when she called him back.

"Mark. I talked to Dr. Pam a little while a go. And if you want to get out of the sessions, then go along with him. Take this seriously Mark. You don't have that many chances left."

"Yes Ma'am." Mark said through clenched teeth.

She looked him, her eyes hard. Thinking of his plan, Mark stepped up and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue demanding entry. She stilled, her mind reeling at the feeling. Then her brain kicked into high gear, her hands pushing against his chest to break the contact. Smiling unrepentantly he pulled back, staring down as she fought for breath.

"Mr. Calaway…" She gasped.

"Night Ms. McMahon." Mark nodded his head at her before turning around and walking away, leaving her to gather her scattered thoughts.


	22. Chapter 22

Even though her lips had been soft, Mark couldn't help but feel dirty as he lay next to Glen that night. He rolled over onto his side and gazed at the sleeping man. He trusted Mark not to hurt him, and yet here he was; trying to end a curse so he could go back to what? A place where he was burdened with more than he needed to be. Where he had more than his share of heartache and loneliness. Glen shifted over, pressing his face into Mark's chest, sighing lightly as he smiled. Gently so as not to wake him, Mark pushed the wavy brown hair from his face.

It was in that moment that he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with the plan. He didn't want to go back where he had naught but a cold bed at night. As soon as that thought passed through a high wind kicked up in the room and Mark brought his arm up to shield his face. The swirling air was warm and Mark felt the warmth settle into his bones. Under the warmth however, was a sense of dread. He knew what this wind heralded. He took a deep breath and waited for her arrive.

Soon the wind died down and instead of Maeve standing there, it was a woman with hair as dark as a raven's wing and eyes the color of gold. She was clothed in blood red fabric and she moved without a sound. Mark's mouth ran dry as she moved over and placed a hand on his forehead. He gasped and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body slumped down onto Glen.

Mark blinked slowly, his head pounding from where the weird woman placed her hand. He brushed his hand over the area, thinking that there might have been a mark left. There wasn't and it was then that he got a good look at his surroundings. He was laying on a cold flagstone floor, dressed in a tartan kilt and nothing else.

"Aye, ye finally awoke."

His head jerked around and he seen the woman from his room. She was now dressed in a tartan dress and her hand was in a single plait that laid down her back. By her side was a dark haired boy with startling green eyes. Mark had the funny feeling that he knew the boy but he couldn't place from where. He got to his feet and stared as she moved over to him, the skirt of her dress barely touching the floor; giving her the illusion of floating.

"Ian."

"Mark, me name be Mark." He said, then winced when he noticed that the Irish lilt was back.

"Fine. Mark. Ye have a choice to make."

"And wot choice do that be?"

"Whether or not to stay where ye are loved or to break the curse. What be ye answer Mark?"

Mark stared at her, his mouth hanging open.

"Wot do ye kin aboot the curse?"

"Everything. Twas me that created it." She laughed, the musical sound filling the room and bouncing off the walls.

Mark started to growl. He hated being laughed at, he took a step forwards only to be stopped by the tar topped boy.

"Ah'd stop if I were ye." He said.

"And who do ye think ye be, ordering me around like that?"

"He's my familiar." She said with a laugh. "So wot be ye answer Mark?"

Mark frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. His mind was clamoring for answer, but it wasn't the answer she was looking for.

"Before we get to that. I want some answers of mah own."

She laughed her tinkling bell laugh again and took a seat on the throne that was situated be her. The young boy moved over and took a seat at her feet, watching Mark wearily for any sudden movements.

"Wot answers do ye be wanting Mark?"

"Why did you do this? Why place a curse on a lassie that had been done wrong?"

"Mark…" She giggled and reached her hand down to stroke the boy's head; bringing a purr like sound from him. "The curse? I was paid to do it. But it could have been brought to end a long time ago. But that's were free will comes in."

"Wot does free will have to do with this?"

"I canna make ye choice for ye. Only ye can. Either ye want to be with someone that loves you or ye want to go back to the way things were. Those before ye chose love, now; wot do ye choose?"

Mark thought over the choices, on the one hand was his relationship with Glen. On the other was the responsibility that his old life held. He wasn't one to run when the going got tough, but he was done with being alone. As if she could read his mind, she waved her hand and the wind kicked back up. It swirled around him and he felt the kiss of heat that signaled what was going on. Before she disappeared from his sight she whispered gently into the wind.

"Ye choices define who ye are. But it's up to ye to decided which ye ye want to be."

With a jerk Mark found himself back in bed with Glen. He looked over, thinking that the movement would have awoken him. It didn't. Glen slept peacefully, snoring lightly as his arm snaked its way around Mark's waist. Mark's brain was firing too fast for him to fall back to sleep, so instead he spent the quiet time questioning himself; trying to figure out what he wanted.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: It took forever but here is an update. Enjoy!!_

* * *

Two weeks had passed since Mark had spoken with the sorceress in his dream and he still hadn't figured out what he wanted. It would be selfish of him to choose Glen over ending the curse. It wasn't as if he was the only one affected. Jericho was a female, Brielle was…a McMahon, Randy was apparently sleeping with Jericho, and then there was Glen. Mark was certain that the Glen from his time line wasn't a homosexual, but there really was no way to be sure unless he went back and asked him. Just imagining that scene had him blushing red and holding his head as a dull throb started at the base.

He jumped as he felt hands on his shoulders, kneading gently. The aftershave that Glen was partial too wafted on the air and he relaxed somewhat. Mark placed his hand on Glen's and stilled it, enjoying the silky feel of his skin.

"What's wrong Mark?"

"Nothing."

"You've been quiet lately."

"Just thinking."

"What about?"

"You." Mark answered honestly.

Glen moved so that he was standing in front of Mark, reaching down and cupping Mark's cheek. His eyes were searching Mark's face, a worried tilt to his lips.

"Hey, now what's the matter?" Mark asked as he pulled Glen down onto his lap.

"You're thinking about me…….and you've been awful quiet." Glen's voice dropped low, making it hard for Mark to hear. "You're thinking about leaving me aren't you?"

"Wha?! No Glen." Mark protested. _At least not really._ He added in his mind. "That is the absolutely last thing on my mind."

"You sure?" Glen pinned him with his eyes; squinting them almost all the way closed.

"I'm sure. What I was thinking was that it's not fair to you that I woo Ms. McMahon." He said honestly as he pushed some hair out of Glen's face.

"What about Randy and Chris?"

"We can take them by ourselves. There really is no need to involve in the McMahons."

"It's not right Mark and you know it. That damned cum sock and her douchebaggler,"

"What?"

"What."

"Glen, humor me here, what in the hell is a cum sock?"

"Y'know, a sock used to clean up some self play." Glen said with a grin.

"And douchebaggler? I know what a douchebag is, but not a douchebaggler."

"Basically a douchebaggler is someone that is such a douchebag that even other douchebags call him a douchebag. He is king of the douchebags. Seriously Mark weren't you listening when Matt and Jeff were talking about in catering a few months ago."

Mark smiled and shook his head; pulling Glen in for a gentle, chaste kiss. Glen moved and wiggled around until he was facing Mark, a mischievous grin on his face as he gathered both of Mark's wrists in his right hand and held them tight. Mark cocked his head and pursed his lips, an intrigued look on his face as Glen just sat there. A few minutes passed and neither man had moved nor said anything, they just sat staring into the other's eyes. Finally Mark laughed and freed his hands, wrapping his arms around Glen's waist and holding him close.

"How about you and I go and get something to eat." Mark suggested as he placed light kisses along Glen's jaw line.

"How about we stay in and plot what we're going to do to Chris and Randy?" Glen countered, his hand slipping under Mark's shirt and his nails dragging lightly across Mark's skin.

Mark shivered and playfully batted Glen's hands away, smiling when Glen pulled an offended face.

"Normally I'm all for that, but we've been holed up in our room since we've jumped hotels. I think we need to go out and explore the town." _Not to mention I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I send myself back. _The last thought breezed through Mark's mind and he couldn't help the small frown that crossed his face as he thought about going back and being all alone.

"For someone that wants to go out, you sure look like you just got told that you have to perform in ring wearing nothing but a Diva thong." Glen teased.

"Nah I was thinking of all the times I kissed Chris." Mark countered, a wry smirk on his face.

"Well then, let me erase those memories."

Glen leaned in and slanted his lips across Marks; his tongue flicking out and tracing the wet seam of Mark's lips until Mark opened them and allowed Glen entry. Out of reflex Mark reached up and tangled his hands in Glen's hair, tugging lightly until he was rewarded with a moan that he swallowed. Hands seemed to be everywhere and it took all of Mark's will power to finally break the kiss and pull away. Both of them were panting heavily and Glen had the slightest sheen of sweat on his brow and cheeks that caught stray pieces of hair and stuck them to his skin. The look on his face, so wonton and needy that made Mark's decision for him. There was no way that he was going to go back to where the only thing that greeted him at night was a cold bed and even colder food from room service.

"Tell ya what, why don't we just stay in and watch whatever is on tv and order room service?" Mark breathed against Glen's throat as he nuzzled the sensitive skin.

"Mmhmmm. Sounds good to me."

After a few more heated kisses they separated, each one following the other discreetly with their eyes as they moved around the room going about their normal routines. They called down and ordered dinner as they reclined on the bed and flipped channels. Glen had situated himself between Mark's legs and was resting his head on Mark's right shoulder and Mark had his head on Glen's left shoulder with his arms wrapped around Glen's waist. The simplicity of the scene combined with overwhelming feeling of rightness boggled Mark's mind but left him feeling better than he had in years. He started to drift off and soon he was snoring lightly in Glen's ear.

His dream was anything but pleasant. Images of Brielle's tortured face swirled around him; her mouth opened as she screamed silently. Her face faded and was soon replaced by Glen's horrified expression and his own lusty one. The three faces danced and whirled around him, closing in on until he couldn't breathe for choking on combined tendrils of Glen and Brielle's locks as they twined around his throat and worked their way into his mouth with every gagging breath he took. The silence was then interrupted by a sing song voice repeating his name over and over again until it was so loud that it was as if it were being screamed in his ear. With a terrified yelp he startled awake, the added feel of Glen's palm across his face helping plunge him back into the world of the reality.

"You ok?" The naked fear in Glen's eyes made Mark feel like a fool and he forced a smile as his face burned red.

"Y-yea fine."

"You sure?"

"Positive. It was nothing but a bad dream."

Glen looked as if he didn't believe him but he let the subject drop, his lips were compressed into a tight line and his eyes held that 'I-know-you're-hiding-something-but-I-don't-know-what' look. Mark opened his mouth to say something but a knock on the door interrupted them and Glen scooted off the bed, casting prodding looks over his shoulder at Mark as he walked across the room. The bellhop pushed the cart into the room and Glen tipped him, hurrying him out with some mumbled excuse about one of them being sick. Once the man was gone Glen pulled the tray over to the bed and sat on the edge, running his hand up Mark's calf and thigh. His eyes were still probing but his lips quirked up into a half grin that swept the rest of the nightmare from his mind.

"So what are we watching?" Mark asked as he picked up the remote.

"Doesn't matter to me." Glen said with a shrug as he lifted the silver domes off the plates.

It wasn't long before the two of them were nestled on the bed eating quietly as they watched old reruns of American Gladiators. Mark was the first one done and set his plate to the side, sighing and laying his arm over Glen's shoulders; noticing that the brunette was just pushing his food around. With a sigh he took Glen's plate and set it aside before pulling him into his lap so that they were face to face.

"What's wrong?" Mark prodded as he ran his hands up and down Glen's arms.

"You're hiding something." Glen said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring slightly at Mark.

"I am not."

"You've never had nightmares before, so what gives?"

"Everyone has nightmares every once and a while. It's nothing." Mark maintained. "I mean it." He said with a frown when Glen cocked his head and pinned him with a disbelieving look.

"Fine. Have your secrets Mark Calaway." Glen huffed as he moved off of Mark's lap and curling up on his side.

"Drama queen." Mark grumbled as he stretched out and plopped a pillow on his face.


	24. Chapter 24

Unbeknownst to the two men curled together on the bed their every move was being watched by not one but two growling entities. Maeve watched with a frown, plotting a way to wrench the two lovers apart. However she wasn't the only one, the sorceress was also watching; smiling serenely as Mark tightened his hold on Glen in his sleep. It was obvious to her what he wanted; that he had made up his mind and as she raised her hand to cast the final spell she was blasted with a whirlwind of ice cold wind.

"I know what you're about to do you interfering gutter slut." Maeve snapped, her golden eyes molten with suppressed fire. "And I'm not going to let you rob my family of its chance to end this once again."

"Ah may be many things, but a thief be not one o them. Ah have robbed ye family o naught." She hissed, sending a scorching wave of heat back at Maeve. "Wot ye and ye kin doan't ken is that it could have been ended at any time. Ye have naught to blame but yeselves."

"No, you started this."

"Ye ancestor be the one that started this."

"Not in the beginning. This was all wrought by Lachlan's inability to keep it in his pants."

"Aye, but it was Ian's own free will that made him take his own life. He could have married Neala, but nay he chose another route. Any descendants from her could have ended it by following their hearts instead of the orders they'd been given. But nay, ye all stick to the same pattern. Ye yerself could have ended it with that Scottish lad that gave ye Brielle."

"No! We had to wait for the reincarnation of Ian has to be the one end it." Maeve pressed.

"Nay ye silly wench. That was never part o the curse. That be made up by ye kin to keep ye reigned in." She laughed her twinkling bell laugh and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Maeve growled, her eyes snapping fire as she cast another look at the bed. She knew what had to be done and was going to do everything she could make it come to pass. All she had to do was get the brown haired man out of the picture. With one last snarl she disappeared, a clap of thunder sounding in the room yet going unheard by the men on the bed.

* * *

In her room Brielle tossed and turned, her dreams fitful nightmares. Mark was standing in front of her, yet wrapped around him was Glen. The burly man kissing and marking his territory as Mark looked on with a satisfied smirk. She could hear the mocking laughter floating through her mind and she sat straight up with a cry; wondering what in the hell that had been about. She could care less about Mark's sexual preference, yet at the same time she couldn't deny that she had been jealous of the tableau in front of her. She glanced over at the alarm clock; dropping back to the bed with a groan when the numbers flashed 6am.

A black shadow jumped up from the floor and she startled, jumping when it bumped its head against her hand. She blinked her eyes a couple of time before realizing that it was Mark's cat. She pressed her hand to her chest and took a couple deep breaths as she stroked the purring animal between the ears.

"You're a long way from your owner." She murmured as the cat placed its paws on her chest and head butted her chin.

The animal seemed so loving that she found it hard to believe that it was Mark Calaway's. Sure a man like him would own large dogs, Rottweiler's or Pitbulls—something that matched the dangerous vibe that he exuded on a daily basis. The cat dropped down into her lap and curled up into a ball, purring loudly as she continued to pet it.

"Maybe I'll just keep you. Surely he doesn't treat you that well. If he did you wouldn't be getting free all the time." She mused, as she reached over the nightstand and grabbed the tv remote.

There was nothing on at that time of the morning other than the news and she watched disinterestedly as one of her own roster members, Bradshaw Layfield droned on and on about finances. He seemed so out of place with his long black hair and earring that she giggled, startling the cat and making it lift its head and stare at her weirdly. She idly flipped through channels, her eyes drooping more and more with each passing minute until she was snoring lightly; her head resting on her chest and arm hanging off the bed with the remote dangling precariously from her hand.

From his perch on her lap AC nestled down, his sharp green eyes taking in every detail of her room and committing it to memory; the gears in his mind turning at a hyper speed as he tried to think of a way to get Mark back on the right track. A noise in the far corner of the room had him arching his back and hissing as he glared, trying to pierce the sudden blackness that had developed.

"Ah, always on edge I see."

"M'lady." He murmured softly as he jumped down from Brielle's lap and padded over. "Ah dinna ken it was ye."

"It's alright lad. Ah've come to take ye away. Our interference is done now." She said softly.

"Ye mean the curse has been lifted?" He asked as he sat on his haunches and curled his tail around his feet.

"Not yet, but soon."

AC turned his head and looked over at Brielle's slumped profile, he had spent his entire cat's life with her and it made him feel empty at the thought of it being over. As if she knew Brielle stirred and blinked awake, her one hand moving to her lap to stroke where he had been lying. A soft sigh from the corner brought his head around and he gazed up at his mistress, knowing with her speaking that she knew what he wanted.

"Seems not only one has made up their mind this day. I wish you well." She bent and placed her hand on his head, warmth flooding his body before she disappeared.

If he had been able to he would have smiled as bounded back over and jumped up into Brielle's lap. She smiled as he bumped her hand and licked her fingertips. He crawled up to her shoulder and wrapped himself around her neck; purring loudly in her ear. She scratched behind his ear one more time before gently lying him on the bed and getting dressed; as much as she wanted to stay curled up with her new found friend she had things to do.

* * *

Some time around 10 am Mark slowly returned to the land of the living, his arm feeling unnaturally heavy. He turned his head and looked over; smiling when he seen that the cause of the weight was from Glen lying on it and hugging it tight to his chest. With his free hand Mark moved hair away from Glen's neck and he rolled so that his face was buried in the newly uncovered skin. Glen shifted and pressed back against him, murmuring something incoherent in his sleep. Mark inhaled deep, taking the scent of Glen's shampoo into his lungs and holding it until he started to feel faint. Slowly he let the breath out, watching as the sensitive hairs on Glen's neck stirred in the slight breeze. Glen shifted again, this time turning so that they were facing, his blue eyes wide as he stared at Mark's face.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Mark breathed as he pressed his lips to Glen's.

"I wasn't sleeping, I was thinking."

"About?"

"This secret of yours."

"Glen there is no secret." Mark sighed, pushing hair from Glen's face as their eyes locked.

"There is. I can see it in your eyes. Besides you've been acting funny. It's like you're not you."

"Well then who would I be?" Mark said, his heart starting to beat double time in his chest.

"You're you but you're not you."

"Glen you're talking in riddles. How can I be me, but not be me at the same time?"

"I don't know but you are."

Glen pulled away and got out of bed, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind him softly. With an annoyed yet relieved sigh Mark got out of bed and walked over to the door; getting ready to pull it open and confront Glen again. The moment his hand touched the knob however he heard Glen's voice from the other side.

"Mark get away from the door."

Grumbling with a smile Mark walked back over to the bed, dropping down and surfing through the channels as he tried to think of a way to get Glen to drop the subject without him getting wise to what he was doing or what was going on.


	25. Chapter 25

Mark fidgeted in his locker room. Tonight was the big match between him and Lee and he was suffering from a large case of nerves. It didn't help any that Chris and Randy had stopped by to 'wish Mark luck' with his match. If Glen hadn't of been there Mark was certain that he would have planted his fist in Randy's face when he sneeringly said that the locker room would miss him. Mark jumped when he felt Glen's hands on his shoulders, the thumbs working on the tight muscles between the blades. With a serene smile spread over his lips and he reached up and placed his hand on Glen's, rubbing his thumb in a circle on the satiny skin on the back of Glen's hand.

"It's going to be fine, you're better than Lee." Glen said as he moved around to stand in front of Mark.

"I know that."

"Then why are you nervous. I've never seen you this nervous before." Glen straddled Mark's hips, holding Mark's head between his hands.

"It's just that, any man can beat another man on any given night." Mark said; repeating what he'd heard JR say over and over again over the years. "I know I'm better than Lee, that I have more control over my moves and emotions. But Randy and Chris are going to be skulking around the ring side area, I can feel it."

"So what if they are? If they interfere then Lee will be disqualified and you win." Glen shrugged his shoulders, his eyes searching Mark's in an attempt to see if Mark telling him the truth or if he was lying to him.

"That's if they hit me. But if they hit him then I'm going to be disqualified and then I have to go to RAW." Mark placed his hands over Glen's, his green eyes wavering as a sheen of tears built in them.

"Then I'm going to be ringside to keep it from happening." Glen said resolutely as he got off Mark's lap and hurriedly started to pull on his ring gear.

Mark's lips kicked up into a half smile as Glen worked the stretchy fabric of his black a-shirt over his torso; licking his lips as he imagined peeling it off of Glen later. He brought out of his fantasy when he heard Glen yelp; looking up he seen Glen holding an eyeliner and glaring at himself in the mirror.

"You alright there?"

"Yea."

Mark rolled his eyes and got up from the couch, sauntering over and taking the coal liner from Glen's hand; batting it away when Glen tried to get it back.

"Hold yer horses. I'm just gonna do this for you."

"And what do you know about putting on eyeliner?" Glen huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"More than you could forget in a lifetime." Mark retorted with a grin. "Now shut yer eyes for me."

Glen did as he was told and Mark bit his bottom lip as he ran the pencil evenly over the top lid and bringing it just a little way out from the eye. He did the other one and asked Glen to open his eyes and look up, gently running the deep onyx color half way under the eye. When he was done he smudged it a little with his index finger then moved back, studying his handiwork with a smirk. He recapped the liner and handed it back to Glen before going back and dropping down on the couch.

"Where'd you learn to do that?' Glen asked as he peered in the mirror at himself, taken aback at how the slight smudging gave his blue eyes a smoky quality.

"I told you, I know more about that then you could ever hope to forget."

"Seems to me that you know a lot that you're not telling me."

"Glen, even if I was hiding something—which I'm not—you wouldn't believe me."

A knock on the locker room door halting anything that Glen was going to say and he glared slightly at Mark before pulling the heavy metal door open. On the other side Brielle stood, dressed to the nines in her GM clothing. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant coif with curled tendrils hanging next to her face. She stepped into the room and ran her eyes over Mark quickly before speaking.

"You know how big a night this is…."

"Listen here Ms. McMahon, I know what needs to be done, you don't have to worry about that." Mark butted in as he stood.

"With your track record I think I have more than enough to worry about." She bit out as she noticed what Glen was wearing for the first time. "Why are you dressed to compete, you have no part in this show tonight."

"He's coming to ring with me." Mark growled.

"Who approved that?"

"I did."

"You don't have that authority." She hissed, turning her burning gaze over to Glen. "Get undressed and leave the arena."

"No, he stays. He's going to be ringside with me to keep any _unwanted _interference at bay. That is unless you want me to go to RAW, therefore putting that show up higher when it comes to talent."

Brielles' mouth flopped open wordlessly. With a grin Mark moved over so that they were toe to toe, his eyes flickering. He brought one large hand up and grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back so that their eyes were locked.

"M-Mr. Calaway…" She stuttered, her heart beating triple time in her chest. "L-Let me go before I call security."

"Do it little girl, have me hauled outta here so that I forfeit the match and get sent to RAW."

Brielle swallowed convulsively, tears springing to her eyes from the pressure but she didn't let them fall—there was no way that she was going to let Mark see her weakness. His lips curled into a smile and he released her hair, his eyes glittering in the light. Brielle took a step back, massaging the back of her head as she glared at Mark, her pride welling to the surface.

"Mr. Calaway…"

She didn't get any further; a knock sounded on the door followed by a stage hand calling Mark's name. With a satisfied smirk he pushed past her, Glen following him with a mumbled 'sorry' before the door shut on him. For a few moments, Brielle stood pulling in deep breaths; trying to calm her senses. But it was of no use, just as she got them under a small amount of control she heard her name being called over the loudspeakers by Stephanie. Wondering what she wanted, Brielle grabbed a mic and sauntered out onto the stage; plastering a Vince worthy scowl on her face. In the ring Stephanie stood between Mark and Lee, a large smile stretched across her face.

"Did you forget how to start a match?" Brielle shot at her; folding her hands across her chest.

"No, but I did forget to mention one other little detail when we ironed out this match, _sister dear_."

"And what's that?" Brielle frowned; not liking the sense of dread that was creeping slowly up her spine.

"If Mean Mark loses tonight, then not only is he coming to RAW but you're going to have to marry him."

"And if Undertaker loses?" Brielle bit out, her defenses rising.

"Then he goes to SmackDown and I have to marry him."

"Well," Brielle paused, smirking at Stephanie. "Looks you'll be marrying a loser no matter the outcome of the match."

Stephanie let out an offended screech and Brielle dropped her mic to the stage and stalked back, her mind whirling faster and faster with each beat of her heart. Soon the rapid beating blotted out all the other noises and Brielle felt as if she was floating. She dimly felt falling backwards and the last thing her eyes seen was a blurry smear of dark hair and intense eyes.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: I was supposed to be asleep. But all I could was toss and turn. As a result it roused Taker muse from where ever it is that he hides when he's not working and this was born. Enjoy my readers! There aren't too many chaps left, one or two at the most._

* * *

"_Come on and make yer move you bastard._" Mark mentally growled as he and Lee circled one another.

Just as he had thought Randy and Chris tried to get to the ring to cause trouble, but Glen had done his job and chased them away. He was now standing at the end of the ramp with his arms folded and his back to Mark; giving the green eyed man a wonder view of his ass in his spandex trunks. With a head shake Mark forced himself back into the match, he couldn't afford to lose. Not only because he'd been sent to RAW but because Brielle didn't need to be saddled with him. She deserved someone that could love her faithfully without the yearning to feel someone else's flesh against theirs. Lee reached out and tried to grab Mark's neck in a choke but Mark was quicker and batted his hand away, snarling when Lee ducked his short clothesline attempt.

They started to circle once more, but Mark had had enough. He grabbed Lee's arm and Irish whipped him into the corner, following almost on his heels and crashing into him; slamming his arm across Lee's throat. He backed up and ran at him again, this time ramming his shoulder into Lee's midsection again and again as the ref tugged and pulled at his shoulder while yelling at Mark to get Lee out of the corner. Continuously Mark kept ramming him until the ref hit the count of four. Reluctantly Mark moved back and waited all of ten seconds before charging Lee again, this time slamming him hard against the turnbuckle. As Lee slid down the corner Mark backed up and did a few taunts, not really caring what it looked like to the crowd but still wanting to put on a good enough show to cover for Lee's inadequate ring performance.

He heard his name being called and he looked over, seeing Randy standing over Glen with his foot across Glen's throat. On the ground Chris was running her hands over his chest and dipping lower every second. The sight made Mark see red and without thinking he backed up and ran towards the roped, diving over them and taking Randy to the floor. Chris scrambled out of the way and quickly Mark got to his feet, holding his hand out for Glen.

"You alright?"

"Yea." Glen nodded then shoved him towards the ring. "Now get back in there."

Mark grinned and leaned in as if to kiss him but at the last minute jerked back and dove into the ring, barely making the ten count. Lee was back on his feet, but holding his ribs; whether or not they were really hurt Mark didn't know but he did know that they were going to be by the time the match was over. In a pathetic attempt to once more play mind games, Lee rolled his eyes back and drug his thumb across his throat, grimacing as he did so.

"_Do I look that stupid when I do it?_" Mark wondered as he grabbed Lee's arm again and tossed him into the ropes.

On the rebound Mark caught him in the throat with a lariat; once he was down Mark raced to the ropes then used the extra push they gave him to help with his leg drop. He landed right on top of Lee's chest and the dark haired man let out a pained wheeze; his rolling back for real that time. Seeing as how Lee wasn't moving, Mark climbed astride and started to unload heavy right hands to Lee's face; snapping the man's nose and busting his lips open in the process. Figuring that Lee was down for a little while Mark took the time to taunt the crowd some more; remembering how good it felt to incite the wrath without having to worry about breaking character. He reached down and locked his hands around Lee's wrist; intending to pull him up, but Lee had other plans and yanked Mark down.

The quickness of the move surprised Mark and before he knew it the bell rang; signaling Lee's victory. A howl and happy screaming went up from ring side and Mark rolled to his stomach and pushed himself to his knees; unable to believe that he had just been beaten. He looked over and seen Glen with his head hung as Chris and Randy celebrated by jumping up and down and screaming. He winced as he heard Stephanie's voice crackle over the PA system.

"Looks like you're the one marrying a loser Brielle, so get down here."

Mark looked up and seen Brielle standing on the stage, supported by Matt and Jeff; the former having his arm wrapped tightly around Brielle's waist to hold her upright. Concerned Mark climbed through the ropes and headed up the ramp, stopping just inches from Brielle. Her eyes opened and she stared at him; a weird light glowing from within. With a strangled sounding gasp she motioned for Matt to hand her the mic that he held in his hand.

"S-Stephanie." She coughed and Matt looked down concerned while Jeff patted her lightly on the back.

"Knock off the dramatics Bri. It's not going to save you from marrying that worthless piece of garbage you put up against the best pure striker in the game." Stephanie hollered as she climbed into the ring and stood next to Lee; resting her hand gently on the crook of his elbow.

Brielle straightened and Mark took a step back. Her eyes changed into the molten gold color of Maeve's and her voice resonated throughout the arena as she spoke.

"There is free will that has been bestowed upon every living creature known to man; human are not the exception." She moved towards Mark and he instantly started to sweat from the heat that seemed to be radiating from her with the force of a thousand electric heaters. "I will not marry him, I will not be forced into doing anything that is not of my own choosing." The heat started to intensify and Mark felt as if he'd pass out if it didn't end soon. "You may care what other's think yet I do not, so therefore you can take this stipulation and shove it up your ass."

The minute that last words were spoken it was as it a small explosion had gone off. The ground trembled beneath Mark's feet and he looked around; expecting to see things falling off the walls and people being trampled as other shoved their way out. Instead all that greeted him was silence. The crowds had melted away, as had the arena. He was once more standing in the meadow. Only this time Brielle was standing with him. She was no longer dressed in the clothing of GM McMahon. She was wearing a traditional Irish maiden's outfit, her hair plaited and hanging down her back; the tip reaching the top of her tartan skirt. They stood staring at one another before hesitantly bringing their hands up; fingertips brushing against each other lightly.

"Ian." It was said softly and with a slight burr; causing Mark to smile sadly.

"Neala."

"We've been running for a long time."

"Aye we have."

"Sae wot do we do now?"

"Ah think this be the part where we kiss and make up."

Gently they intertwined their fingers and Mark pulled Brielle close; savoring the feel of her lithe body pressed against his. She tilted her head up and smiled, sighing as Mark bent his head and captured her lips. The touch was merely for an instant but it seemed like forever and Mark felt himself going weak in the knees. His head started to ache and his body felt as if it were tearing itself in two. Brielle must have felt it too, she pulled away from Mark with a pained gasp and as one they tumbled to ground, their eyes closing as two mist like forms drifted up towards the sky.

The ghostly lovers once more intertwined, wisps of fog floating down and wrapping tendrils around their two fallen descendants on the ground. With a twinkling bell laugh that filled the meadow they were gone; their hearts reunited and their spirits finally able to rest peacefully. From afar two more wavering mists watched as the lifeless bodies flickered and faded from sight.

"Ah told ye."

"Shut up you."

"Free will twas always the answer."


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Alright readers we have come to yet another conclusion. I want to thank everyone that has stuck by this fic even though it seemed like it had fallen by the wayside and would never reach it's end. It's probably not the ending that most had in mind but once the musi are set on something, nothing and I mean NOTHING will change the course of their actions. Anywho, I hope y'all enjoyed the ride and once more I thank you all. _

* * *

Mark sat up slowly, gripping his head as it throbbed intensely; moaning as the pressure from his hands only added to the ringing pain inside his skull. A sharp indrawn breath pierced the pain and he cracked one eye open; regretting it instantly when the stark white of the room penetrated his senses and seemingly made the pain triple.

"Urgh." He muttered; his head feeling as if it were going to split in two.

"Rest."

The word was said quietly and Mark jumped when he felt a warm hand engulf his. Carefully he turned his head and took another stab at opening his eyes; this time managing to get them partially open. Glen was sitting at his side, his eyes concerned when Mark looked at him funny.

"W-what happened to your hair?" Mark croaked weakly.

"My hair? Mark, I've been bald for six years now."

Mark furrowed his brow and tried to get the room to stop spinning so that it would be easier to make sense of what Glen was saying. Glen scooted his chair closer and brushed some hair--long dark hair--from his face, his fingers trailing lightly over Mark's skin and making it flush a light red color. A cough from the door way drew both men's gaze and Vince stood there, Shane, Stephanie and Hunter standing behind him.

"What the hell happened to you Mark?" Vince asked. "You go off on personal leave and then we find you lying unconscious outside of the arena. If Hardy's wife hadn't of found you who knows what would have happened?"

Stephanie came and stood by Glen, reaching down and patting his arm; her eyes wide and soft. Mark managed to pull enough strength to place his hand on top of her and rub his thumb over the satiny skin.

"You had us worried there big man." She said playfully even though her voice wobbled as if she wanted to cry.

"I'm fine."

"The doctors say you have a concussion and some internal bleeding. What in the hell have you been doing there Deadman?" Hunter asked as he pulled a chair up and lounged back on it, his eyes running over the various machines and tubes that were sticking every which way out of him.

Mark flicked his eyes back and forth from each person; weighing his words and wondering if they'd believe him if he told them. Deciding that they'd just chalk it up the concussion he worked a neutral smile on his face; grimacing as even that small movement shot shards of pain skittering through his body. He felt Glen's hand tighten on his and in the pit of his stomach he felt the heat that he felt for the other Glen unfurl; large butterfly wings brushing against the sides and making him shiver and tremble uncontrollably. The sound of a throat clearing came from the door and Mark looked up, his eyes widening slightly as Matt Hardy, Jeff Hardy, and Chris Jericho stood; each dressed as though they were going to funeral and the latter dressed once more in men's clothing.

"Are we interrupting?" Jeff asked, his peridot eyes roaming the room before settling on Mark's face.

"No." Mark said as he shook his head.

The two brothers moved in and it was then that Mark noticed the red head standing behind Matt. She was clad in a simple day dress; the deep emerald coloring complimenting her fiery hair. Matt turned and held his hand out to her, pulling her close and interlocking their fingers; dual gold bands glinting on their fingers. It was easy to see that she was heavily pregnant and Mark knew before even asking what she was having.

"We where in the neighborhood and wondered if you might want some company." Chris said as he leaned against one of the walls, his trademark smirk gracing his face as he looked over the assembled guests. "Although we should have known that you'd have the big dogs in here."

Everyone shared an eye roll then a laugh when Glen lobbed one of Mark's extra pillows at him; Chris yelping when it made contact. In the laughter Mark looked up and locked eyes with her, smiling serenely as Brielle nodded her head. Amongst the joking and light hearted teasing she looked at him and mouthed 'Thank you', on hand lying gently against the large bulge and the other still tightly held in Matt's hand. He nodded his head and looked down at his hand where it was gripped in Glen's; their fingers interlocked intimately. Glen squeezed them and Mark brought his eyes up to meet Glen's, noticing for the first time the brilliant hue they were. Light blue topaz and emerald green caught and held; neither man noticing when everyone trickled from the room until it was only them left.

"Glen…"

"Mark, I have to tell you something." Glen started, dropping his eyes and picking at the thin hospital blanket on the bed. "I-I was scared when Bri came in screaming that she had found you outside, c-covered in blood and not moving." His voice started to grow heavy and choked but he held up a hand when Mark went to speak. "Lemme finish. I've been hiding something Mark, something big and I'll understand if you don't feel the same way. And for awhile I thought even if I only had your friendship I'd be able to make it. Better to have something than nothing at all."

"Glen, I think I know what…" Mark started, his heart starting to beat double time in his chest.

"No Mark, you can't possible know." Glen shook his head; interrupting Mark as his cheeks blossoming with fiery color when he brought his eyes back up and cupped Mark's cheek with his free hand; the pad of his thumb gliding over the skin and making Mark shiver. "I-I like you Mark, I mean, I wan—"

Ignoring the pain that pounded in the back of his skull Mark leaned over and pressed his lips to Glen's; slipping his tongue past Glen's slack lips and swirling around the new—yet at the same time familiar—territory. Surprised Glen pulled back, running his tongue over his lips and staring at Mark wide eyed. Mark held his breath; wondering if maybe he hadn't made the wrong move, but that fear was laid to rest moments later when Glen leaned and kissed him, his large hands wrapping in Mark's hair as their lips slid against one another mingled with sighs and whimpers that both would deny they ever made. When they pulled apart, Mark scooted as far as he could in the bed; pulling Glen in with him and snuggling close. As one they both drifted off to sleep, both men smiling as their deep rooted love wrapped around them and bound them together on a level that would bind them for life and beyond.


End file.
